


Broken Mind, Fractured Heart

by kelleyj17



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 01:26:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 48,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11863764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelleyj17/pseuds/kelleyj17
Summary: Every SOLDIER has been exposed to Mako to strengthen his body and enhance his reflexes. But there is one thing the Mako cannot touch – his mind. Cloud Strife's mind is exceptionally malleable after being fractured and manipulated so many times. Now that he's settled into a routine at Seventh Heaven, what will it take for him to accept this weakness and allow himself happiness?  Cloti.





	1. But I'm a Bodyguard

Tifa wiped down the bar counter of Seventh Heaven, waiting for the last lingering patron to leave. The lights were dimmed for closing time, the chairs were up on the tables, and Tifa was sweeping the floor, hoping the man would get the hint and finish his drink. He had been watching her all night, and she was prepared to give a polite, but firm rejection.

In her line of work, her looks were really a double-edged sword. Genetics had given her a huge chest and a pretty face, and years of disciplined martial arts had given her a perfectly toned body. If it brought in extra customers and larger tips, who was she to complain? But as a bartender, many a misguided patron assumed she was a piece of meat for them to ogle; she became a bet between buddies as to who could nail her first. Thus she had perfected the art of the firm rejection, and if that didn't work, her fists and her feet usually got the message across.

She sensed him moving behind her as she swept, but she continued her work until he cleared his throat pointedly at her back. She turned around with a polite smile. "Heading out? Have a good night."

The man smirked. He had wavy black hair and dark eyes, with piercings all the way around one ear, none on the other.  He was attractive in a bad-boy kind of way, probably used to getting his way with women, but he was going to be disappointed that night. He stroked a long skinny mustache.

"It's awfully late for a pretty girl like you to be walking home alone. I'll just wait for you to finish up."

Tifa kept the polite smile frozen on her face. _The nerve! He didn't even bother to ask for permission._ Still, politeness was always her first line of defense. "Thank you, but it's not necessary. I'm not walking home alone." She opted not to explain that she actually lived upstairs, and wouldn't have needed an escort even if she decided to stroll around town in her birthday suit in the middle of the night.

He didn't seem overly drunk, but he had waited there for hours until closing time, so she should have known he wouldn't be that easy to dissuade. "Well then, maybe I could convince you to come back to my place instead?" The man sidled a step closer, tracing a finger slowly down her arm. "We could keep the party going all night," he whispered breathily.

Tifa resisted the urge to shudder at his creepiness. "No thanks," she said breezily, turning back to her sweeping. "I really do need to close up now, so—"

She felt his hand like a vice around her upper arm. Tifa spun around, her eyes glinting dangerously. Her fingers twitched. "Don't. Touch. Me."

Before he could respond, Cloud popped through the doorway at the back of the bar. "Tifa –" Cloud's eyes flickered between the two of them, quickly sizing up the situation. "Ah, Marlene is having a nightmare and she's asking for you. Can you go check on her? I can finish up down here."

Tifa pulled her arm deliberately from the man's grasp. "Of course," she said. She handed the broom to Cloud, giving him an I-know-what-you're-doing-smirk as she passed.

Cloud took the broom and continued sweeping, whistling as he worked and pretending to be oblivious to the annoyance radiating from the man and the eyes he could feel burning holes in his back. After a moment, the man turned on his heel and left.

Cloud smiled and began whistling as he finished cleaning up the bar area. In the past, he had handled such matters in a more protective, big-brotherish way, and Tifa had dragged him into the back to chew him out.

_'For god's sake, Cloud, he's just flirting. I'm perfectly capable of scaring off men on my own. I've been doing it for years while you were off playing soldier…' Tifa had broken off abruptly, instantly looking sorry._

_Cloud's eyes had darkened for a moment – four years of being experimented upon was not a time he liked to remember – but he had shaken it off. 'So am I supposed to just sit there and watch them pawing all over you?'_

_Tifa rubbed her forehead wearily. 'If it really bothers you, just… find a more diplomatic way to interfere.'_

Since then, Cloud had gotten much more adept at controlling his protective instincts around her. He locked the door and flipped off all the lights, reflecting on her words of wisdom: 'It's easy for them to justify being an asshole if you start treating them like one.' She was right; it was far more satisfying to watch their impotent rage when he was being reasonable.

* * *

Tifa started the morning with her usual ritual: an hourly session of training katas, followed by a cool shower. She braided her wet hair with quick, practiced fingers, and then settled on the floor for meditation. As the sun peeked over the horizon she headed down the hall, surprised to see Cloud on the stairs ahead of her. He was rarely up before 10 AM, and even more rarely showered and dressed by then. He had a packed duffel bag in one hand and First Tsurugi on his back. "Cloud, are you leaving?"

He looked back over his shoulder. The light streaming through the window reflected off his pale skin and fair hair, but his intense blue eyes were what caught her attention as usual.

"Yeah. Got a gig. Kind of last minute, but it should be easy enough."

"Pay any good?"

"Definitely. I just have to play bodyguard for some spoiled princess."

He continued out the front door and Tifa trailed behind, shoving her hands in her pockets. He deftly separated the parts of his sword and secured them in their places on the distinctive black and gold motorcycle, lifted the seat and tossed the duffel bag inside.

"Hey, did you even tell the kids you were leaving? And have you eaten anything yet?" She put her hands on her hips and stifled the urge to continue scolding him like a mother hen.

Cloud adjusted his goggles and climbed on Fenrir. "Nah, I just found out last night. I'll only be gone for a few days, anyway. And I'll pick up something on the road later." He still refused to wear a helmet – probably didn't want to ruin that artfully spiked hair – but at least he'd compromised and agreed to protect his eyes.

She leaned back on her heels. "Fine, but can you at least try to eat something green this time? And don't forget about the sunscreen; you know you always burn after you've been riding all day. And remember to call when you get there. And-"

"Tifa," he interrupted, chuckling, "I'll be home soon."

She could have sworn he was reaching out to her, but he abruptly turned it into an awkward wave. Then he started the engine and was gone.

She shaded her eyes with her hand and watched his silhouette until he disappeared into traffic. Yes, there was still a bit of awkwardness between them; the few times they had been together without that tension only seemed to happen when they thought they were about to die. When they thought there was no future, they could drop all pretenses and just live in the moment. She thought about those times more often than she cared to admit.

Still, she wasn't complaining. The Geostigma had been eradicated, and Cloud had finally let go of the guilt he had felt over the deaths of Zack and Aerith. Now he was living in the apartment above Seventh Heaven, helping out with the bar and the kids and doing odd jobs. Together with Marlene and Denzel, they had become almost a family. It was more of a family than most people had these days, anyway.

As if summoned by the thought, Marlene tore out the front door, screaming. Tifa grabbed her arms before she could streak by.

"Marlene! What happened? What's wrong?"

Denzel pushed open the door before it had fully closed, chasing after her. "Marle—" He stopped when he saw her with Tifa, guilt flashing across his face. He quickly turned to walk back in.

"Freeze!" Tifa ordered. The little boy turned slowly around while she tried to comfort a frantic Marlene. "Spill."

She could almost see the wheels spinning behind his angelic little face, trying to come up with an excuse.

"It was just a joke—" he started.

"Denzel, what did you do?" she asked sternly.

Marlene lifted her face from Tifa's chest. "He put a _rat_ in my bed. It was under the covers with me! It bit me and now I have rabies!"

Tifa raised an eyebrow at Denzel when he scoffed. "It didn't _bite_ you—"

"Did too!" Marlene interrupted. "I felt it! And look!"

She held up her leg for Tifa's examination. Tifa searched vainly to find a mark in the flawless skin.

Denzel scowled at her. "It was made of rubber, Marlene. It's not even real! You're such a _girl_."

Tifa suppressed a smile. Ah, sibling rivalry. They really were like a family.

* * *

By the time Cloud made it to the hotel, he was aching from riding all day and he could feel the sunburn on the back of his neck. He'd have to make sure Tifa didn't see that. He parked his bike, got off, and stretched the stiffness from his limbs. He just had time for a quick shower before he had to meet with the client.

Thirty minutes later, he knocked on the door to the penthouse suite. A grizzled looking man with black hair, broken only by the silver at his temples, opened the door. He crossed his arms and stared at Cloud expectantly.

Cloud held out his hand. "Hey. Cloud Strife. I was hired to—"

"Lemme see some ID," he demanded in a fluid accent that didn't match his gruff exterior. He ignored Cloud's hand, so after a moment he dropped it, feeling foolish.

"Oh. Uh, sure." Cloud pulled out his license and handed it to the man. He examined it carefully, then grunted and handed it back, stepping out of the doorway.

Being a man of few words himself, Cloud could appreciate the silent type, but some guidance would have been nice. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, taking in the details of the opulent suite. The entryway opened into a full kitchen and dining room. The dining room table was sparkling glass, a sharp contrast to the world-weary man who had sat down there to return to his card game. His card partner was a younger man with dark brown hair, save for an odd white streak in front. He flicked disinterested eyes at Cloud and then went back to his hand. A sparkling chandelier drifted above their heads.

Off to the right, he could see a large living area with a TV playing some kind of music video, and on the left were two sets of French doors, which he assumed led to bedrooms. Connected to the kitchen was a large bathroom.

"Alright if I check the place out?" Cloud asked.

The grizzled man waved his hand in Cloud's general direction. "Knock yourself out, kid."

The sound of his heavy boots on tile accompanied him to the first set of French doors. They opened up to a comfortably ritzy bedroom with walk-in closets, a mirrored vanity with lights, and a large flat-screen TV on the wall. Across the room, another pair of glass doors opened out to a balcony.

He made his way over to the balcony doors and examined the locks. Flimsy, as he expected. He stepped out onto the balcony. It was very large, filled with an assortment of expensive-looking furniture. He looked up at the roof. It was only about 15 feet above the balcony, which he figured any determined person could use to drop down and get inside the suite.

Another set of glass doors on the far side of the balcony led back inside. He opened those and found himself inside the other bedroom. This one was even larger than the first, with an enormous bed, a corner jacuzzi, a wall-sized TV, and another full living-room set. However, unlike the sterile cleanliness of the other room, this one had several open suitcases, cosmetics scattered over the vanity, and clothes draped on the backs of chairs. He stepped over some lingerie and opened a separate door to the master bath.

The room was dominated by a hot tub that had to be big enough for 10 people. Black tile gave a smaller feel to the huge bathroom, but there were shelves and closets that were bigger than Cloud's entire room. A door on the opposite side opened up to the first bedroom.

When he returned to the kitchen, the two men didn't even bother to look up, so Cloud crossed the dining room and entered the living room. The pop star, Aria, was sprawled out on the black leather couch watching TV. She wore yoga pants hung low on her hips, and a pale blue tank top that left little to the imagination. Glossy red hair showered across her shoulders.

A small smile quirked her lips when she looked up at him. She stretched gracefully as she stood, showing off some kind of circular tattoo around her belly button, and then sauntered over to him. Cloud held out his hand and she took it. "I'm Aria," she purred, staring deeply into his eyes. "And you," she continued, taking a step closer without releasing his hand, "are my date."

Startled, Cloud took a step back. "Excuse me?"

Aria ran a hand through her shimmering red locks, giving him a seductive smile. "Well, it's a VIP event, and you will be my escort." Her eyes raked over him appreciatively. "All you have to do is look pretty and act like you adore me."

Cloud scowled and crossed his arms. He was starting to understand how Tifa felt being ogled at the bar every night. "No way. That's not what I signed up for. The contract was for a bodyguard."

She patted his cheek. "Aww, aren't you cute." She strolled over to the coffee table and slid a cigarette from a sleek metallic case. "Don't worry; you _will_ be guarding my body. Giles and Mack will be around too, but I need someone... closer. To protect me." She lit the cigarette and blew out a slim stream of smoke, and then she smirked, a challenge in her eyes. "What's the big deal? You can't act for one night?"

Cloud sighed, sensing that this job wasn't going to be as easy as he'd hoped. But he'd already driven all the way across the continent, and the pay was much better than his usual. He rubbed his temples, fending off an impending headache. "Is that a requirement?"

Aria smiled and leaned against the wall. "Yes. Either take the contract or go home."

Cloud eyed her critically, wondering if he was crazy to even consider it. He didn't think he was technically qualified to play any kind of role, but her people had called him and requested the services he offered, which did not include any kind of thespianism. So it wasn't his problem if he didn't make a believable escort for her. He just had to keep her safe. Finally, he sighed. "Fine. But if I'm going to do this, I need to know everyone legitimately involved in the operation. Starting with the men in the kitchen."

She stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray and shot an irritated look in the direction of the doorway. "They didn't even introduce themselves? Gods, they're such barbarians."

She grabbed him by the arm to lead him into the kitchen, which seemed completely unnecessary to Cloud. The two men at the table looked up respectfully when she entered, although the younger brunette man marked her hand on his arm with a scowl.

"These are my on-staff security guys. This is Giles," she said, indicating the grizzled man, "and this is Mack." She gestured to the younger man, who had his disturbingly intense stare now trained on Aria. "Guys, I need you to fill Cloud in on whatever he needs to know for tomorrow. I'm going to take a long, hot bath. Don't you dare disturb me unless the place is on fire. And if it is…" she added coyly, eyes skimming over Cloud, "send him in." She squeezed his arm and flounced off toward the master bedroom.

Mack glared at him with open hostility. Cloud stared calmly back. Giles cleared his throat, choosing to ignore the tension in the room. "Right. So, you're going to be escorting Aria to a red carpet event tomorrow night. As far as anyone knows, you're just a friend. Don't give any indication that you're there to guard her. Nobody's going to give a damn about you, so just leave the talking to Aria and stick to her like glue."

Cloud nodded, dragging his eyes away from the silent confrontation. "Fine. What do you have for the layout?"

Giles stared at him blankly.

"The layout of the place where we'll be tomorrow. Exits, security cameras, blind spots…"

"Oh, that." Giles waved his hand. "Don't worry, we'll handle all that."

 _Meaning, you don't know. Great._ Cloud closed his eyes briefly, trying not to let his irritation show. He decided to let that one slide. "Fine. Then I need to talk to you about this suite. It's accessible from the balcony via the roof, and it's not easily defensible with those glass doors. I think we should move her to a better location."

Giles picked up his cards and examined his hand, effectively dismissing Cloud. "Yeah, I saw it. Don't even bother, kid. She's too stubborn to move, and there's no good reason to argue it with her."

Cloud scowled. "What are you talking about? Why would she hire three bodyguards and then not even bother to stay someplace safe?"

Mack spoke up for the first time, tone biting with anger. "There's no one after Aria. There's nothing to worry about. Just shut up and do your job."

Cloud let out a calming breath through his teeth, annoyed with their attitudes. He was _trying_ to do his job, but Giles didn't seem to be taking it seriously at all, and Mack obviously had a problem with him. He set his jaw. "Then why am I here?"

"Why indeed," Giles said blithely.

* * *

Tifa was working through her closing task list. The glasses were all cleaned and put away, the tables wiped down, the floors swept. She pulled out the overflowing garbage bag and brought it out the back door to the dumpster. As the heavy door closed behind her, she heard the snap of broken glass under a boot. She froze, her senses on high alert. There was no crime in walking through the alley at night, but she had learned to trust her instincts, and right now, they were flashing a bright red warning beacon.

 _Crunch, crunch, crunch_. She heard his footsteps coming closer on the gravel. He stopped just shy of the lights, a fedora shading his face from any stray illumination.

"Well, well. We meet again."

The voice tugged at Tifa's memory, but she couldn't quite place it. Whoever he was, he wanted to play it as a coincidence that he'd met her outside of her own bar, just after closing time? Everything, from his shadowed approach to his obviously rehearsed line, reeked of a setup. Calmly, she set down the garbage bag and pulled her black leather gloves from her back pocket.

The voice floated to her from the shadows. "I was hoping to run into you again, after our conversation was cut short last time."

The gears clicked into place in her mind: greasy mustache man. It had been several days since he'd been at the bar, but she recognized the sickly sweet tenor of his voice.

She silently slipped on her gloves. "Look, I'm really flattered, but I'm just not interested."

He sounded amused. "But you haven't even heard my proposition."

Tifa sighed. "It doesn't matter. I'm not—"

She stopped speaking abruptly when she heard the soft click of a gun hammer in the dark. He laughed softly. "See, I knew you'd want to hear what I had to say. Now, come closer."

Tifa weighed her options. It certainly wasn't the first time she'd had a gun pointed at her, but he stood in the shadows and she couldn't be certain exactly where it was. She took her time, slowly stepping closer to the man, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. After another few long seconds, she saw the gleam of a revolver. Without warning, she whipped out her foot and kicked the gun out of his hand. He was startled as it flew over his head, falling back a few steps, but he recovered quickly. Anger rippled over his face as he clenched his fists.

"That…was a mistake, Tifa."

Tifa's closely attuned ears picked up another boot on gravel behind her. Backing towards the dumpster and turning her body enough to see the new visitor without taking her eyes off of mustache guy, she caught the glimmer of twin samurai swords.

_Shit!_

She knew she needed to get one of them out of the way before they converged on her, and mustache man was the obvious choice, since he no longer had a weapon. She jumped up to grab the bar on the dumpster, swinging herself around and using the wall of the building as a springboard, flipping herself toward the gunman. Startled, he brought his arms up, guarding his face from her fists, but caught completely off guard from the kick to his chest. He flew back with the force and skidded across the alley on his back.

Tifa landed lightly, facing the charging man with the samurai swords. She ran a couple of steps toward him and slid, knocking his feet out from under him. He hit the ground hard, one of his swords skittering away from his hand. She rolled back to her feet and ran up the steep slope of the building across the alley, spinning to pounce on him before he could get up. He rolled out of the way at the last second, grabbing her ankle and using her momentum to fling her the other direction. She hit the dumpster, managing to take most of the impact with her legs, but the container slammed loudly against the wall of the bar, buckling in the center where she hit it.

She leapt back to her feet again, launching an immediate attack on sword guy with a kick to the face. He brought his arm up fast enough to take most of the impact, but the force of his own arm against his face knocked him back a few steps. Tifa delivered a swift kick to the ribs and two jabs to the jaw before he could recover. Sword guy grunted, but didn't go down.

Tifa repositioned her feet and lashed out with a powerful roundhouse. As if suddenly remembering that he was armed with deadly weapons, he brought the blade of his sword down as she spun, ignoring her impending attack, slashing her left leg just as her right foot connected with his face. He flew backwards, hitting the ground like a ragdoll. He was definitely out of it, but it had cost her. She stumbled on her injured leg, and her head was jerked back roughly as The Mustache caught her braid from behind and wrapped it around his hand. He was a sloppy fighter, unfocused and lacking discipline over his emotions, but he had a significant advantage with her bad leg. She felt an alarming amount of hot blood pulsing over her knee, drenching her shoe, but she didn't think he had hit any major arteries.

He twisted her around to face him, unwittingly putting her back in an offensive position. He gloated down at Tifa, certain he had the upper hand.

"Really, buddy?" she taunted. "Pulling hair? Of all the cheap moves –"

She pulled back her arm and nailed his nose with the heel of her hand, feeling a satisfying crunch, and he yelped, releasing her hair and stumbling backwards, holding his hands to his face. She got in two more hits to the jaw and then swept his feet out from under him, ignoring the protest from her wounded leg. She was on him in a second, flipping him onto his stomach and pulling back his arm. He made a new, pained noise as she wrenched his shoulder and dug her good knee into his back.

Tifa ignored his wailing as she considered what to do with him. There was no real organized authoritative presence since Meteorfall, so the citizens of the Planet had to learn to deal with the lawlessness on their own. Tifa didn't have any real desire to kill the man, but if she didn't teach him a lesson, he would be back for her again. He might be anyway, with more backup. Maybe she should just break one or two of his bones. He would survive it, and maybe he would be scared enough to leave her alone.

She heard a soft sniffle over his cries. Her head whipped around, and she felt her heart stop when she saw the terror on Marlene's pale face. She was being held by a third man in front of a windowless van, a wicked looking dagger held tight against her throat.

"Let him go," the man said calmly, his cultured accent seeming absurdly out of place in the midst of this alley of violence. He was obviously a plate dweller before Midgar had been obliterated by Meteor, most likely a high-powered executive, and he reeked of entitlement.

Tifa released mustache man's arm and his cries subsided to whimpers, but she kept her knee planted in his back. "I'm not a patient man, Ms. Lockhart." To emphasize his point, he cut a small slice into Marlene's neck. Marlene let out an involuntary yelp as he kept the sharp blade against the damaged skin.

"Ok! Ok." Tifa stood up, digging her knee in one last time for good measure. She held her hands up in surrender. "Please, just let her go. I'll give you whatever you want. Just let her go first."

The man was tall and bald. He emanated quiet control. "After that little display? I don't think so, my dear. Jace, get up. Get the stuff." Mustache man got to his feet and stumbled toward the van. Tifa searched desperately for an opening, but Baldy never took his eyes off of Tifa, never relaxed his hold on Marlene. After a moment, Jace returned with a bottle and a cloth in his hand and hatred in his eyes. He soaked the cloth with the contents of the bottle, and Tifa froze as the scent of chloroform reached her nose. He pulled her roughly against him, again using her hair as leverage, and held the cloth over her mouth and nose. For the first time, Tifa started to panic. She was confident in her abilities, but she could do nothing if she weren't conscious, and it was too dangerous to try anything right then with Marlene in the mix.

She could only hold her breath for so long; she had to find a way to fool them. She held perfectly still for a few moments, and then started to struggle weakly. She didn't struggle enough get away from The Mustache, even accidentally. Baldy had already shown that he wouldn't hesitate to hurt Marlene if he thought it would stop her. After a minute, she allowed herself to go limp in his arms. The pressure against her face let up just a bit, but Baldy's calm, commanding voice brooked no room for argument.

"Keep it there, Jace," she heard Baldy murmur. "She's not out yet."

_Damn it!  
_

She continued to play possum, but soon she was out of oxygen for real. Her lungs began to spasm as she struggled to hold her breath, and soon her body betrayed her, forcing her to inhale.


	2. The Glitterati

"Stop squirming!" the tailor ordered.

Cloud frowned. "Do I really have to wear this monkey suit? I look stupid."

The tailor, Jovahn, pulled the pins out of his mouth and glared at Cloud. "You _look_ like a man of a station suitable to be escorting Aria. Almost."

With one last snip, Jovahn stood up and admired his work. Aria's assistant, Nikki, stepped forward. "Wonderful. Now take out your earring. You look like a hoodlum."

Cloud snarled. Nikki waved away his protests. "Oh stop being so dramatic, it's just for the evening. You can go back to being a hoodlum again tomorrow."

Gritting his teeth, Cloud took out his earring.

"And now for your hair," she said, reaching for Cloud's blond spikes. Cloud ducked out of the way.

"Leave the hair." Aria strolled in the room, eyeing Cloud appreciatively. "I think it's sexy."

Nikki threw up her hands and walked off as Aria ran her fingers through his long blond spikes. Cloud shifted uncomfortably. She was wearing a slinky cream gown and six-inch heels, and she smelled amazing. Her hair was piled neatly on her head, with the exception of the silky red trellises hanging down around her face. Once again, she was standing too close for Cloud's comfort, and he was trying desperately to convince himself that it wasn't affecting him.

Just then his phone started ringing. He snatched at the excuse to step away from her.

"Hello?"

"Cloud? Where are you?" Denzel's voice sounded ever higher and more innocent over the phone.

"I'm working, Denzel. I thought Tifa told you. It's really not a good time." He avoided the daggers shooting from Aria's eyes.

"Oh. Well... Tifa's not here."

"Ok… well I'm sure she'll be back soon."

"Yeah but Marlene's gone, too, and they didn't even tell me anything. They were gone when I woke up this morning."

Cloud sighed. "They probably went for a walk or something, Denzel. I just talked to Tifa last night. I'm sure everything's fine, and there's really nothing I can do from the other side of the continent."

"What if they don't come back?" Denzel whined.

"Look, if they're not back in an hour, call Barret. Until then, just relax. I'm sure they're fine." Aria stepped in front of him, arms crossed. "I really have to go now. Bye."

The second he hung up, Aria snatched the phone from his hand and chucked it behind the couch.

"Hey!" Cloud started toward the couch, but Aria stopped him with a hand on his chest.

She stepped in front of him, but her hand remained where it was. "No phones. It's a rule I have for all my guards. You're supposed to be protecting me, and I can't have you distracted with personal calls."

Cloud really tried to be reasonable, but he hated not having his phone. He had cut himself off from the people he cared about for far too long, and he had made a promise never to do it again. "What if I need to reach one of the other guards? What if there's an emergency?"

Aria waved off his protests. "Giles will give you an earpiece. You'll be in communication the entire time."

_It's only for a day. It's not like I'm running off again._

Aria interrupted his thoughts. "Now come back up to the suite with me. The limo will be arriving to pick us up within 30 minutes." She began walking away, clearly assuming that he would follow without question.

Cloud scowled and trailed behind her as she stepped out into the hall. He was grouchy and in the mood to complain. "My swords are going to look really stupid with this suit," he said, sulking.

Aria laughed. "Uh, no. You're not carrying your swords tonight."

He stopped walking. "How the hell am I supposed to protect you if I don't have my swords?"

Aria turned around and sauntered back to him. She ran her hands slowly up his muscular arms, over his shoulders, up his neck, and into the back of his hair. Cloud shivered involuntarily, and she gave him a sultry smile. "Are you telling me that you're not strong enough to protect me with your bare..." she paused and tugged at the strands, breathing on his lips, "...hands?"

Cloud tried to get his traitorous mind to clear. "Uh, no, I can... I mean, yeah..."

"Good," Aria said crisply, "then there's no problem." Abruptly, she spun on her heel and began walking again.

Cloud let out the breath he'd been holding. Really, no concept of personal space. He shook his head and followed her back to the suite.

* * *

The long black limo slowed down as it reached the crowd. Cloud bounced his knee nervously. Aria put her hand on it, stopping him. "Cloud, just relax. You don't have to do anything tonight but smile and look pretty. You will be no one of consequence, just a random guy escorting me to the party, ok?"

Cloud nodded and braced himself as the driver opened the door to let them out. Immediately he was overwhelmed with camera flashes. A voice crackled in his ear. "Cloud, you have to keep your eyes open. And for Gaia's sake, quit looking so uptight and try to smile."

Great. So not only security on the line, but her entire team nagging him through the night. Aria waved and greeted all her fans, touched a few outstretched hands as they passed, laughed at some comment, and blew a kiss. Cloud strolled along beside her like a docile pet monkey. Finally, they made it to the front door of the enormous mansion and were escorted inside by identically suited doormen.

Cloud felt like he'd entered another planet. A crisply dressed waiter walked over with a tray of champagne glasses, but he stared straight ahead, never even looking at the couple. Aria gave Cloud a pointed look.

_Oh! Am I supposed to buy her one?_

He started to reach in his pocket, wondering how much it would cost in a place like this and whether he even had enough in his wallet.

An annoyed voice crackled in his ear. "You don't need money, Strife. Just take one for Aria and one for you."

He was startled to realize how closely they must be watching, if they'd noticed him reaching in his pocket. Perhaps her security was more professional than he gave them credit for.

A quiet groan came through the earpiece. "Gaia, this is going to be a long night. Why couldn't she just hire an actor or something?"

…or perhaps not.

He may not have been much of an actor, but he _was_ an expert in hiding his emotions. His stoic mask didn't even flicker as he took two glasses and handed one to Aria. The waiter promptly turned and walked away.

Aria took a sip of hers as Cloud stood there, staring at his glass. She leaned over to his ear. "It's a beverage, Cloud. You put it in your mouth and swallow it. Really not that difficult."

Cloud scowled at her, speaking just as quietly. "Aria, I'm _working_. I'm not going to drink tonight." Truthfully, it took a lot of alcohol to have any noticeable effect on him, but it was about the principle.

Aria smiled serenely and murmured back. "And as your employer, I say it's part of your job tonight. It'll help you loosen up."

He frowned and set the drink down on a table. "No. It's unprofessional. If something happens tonight and I'm not a hundred percent—"

She let out a frustrated sigh and shushed him with a finger to his lips. "Fine, then at least pretend, ok?"

Cloud closed his mouth and picked up the champagne. He could manage to carry around a glass all night.

For the next few hours, he was able to trail her around the party while she chatted with the socialites. He kept his eyes moving, watching for anything suspicious. There was press swarming around with cameras and celebrities greeting Aria warmly, but he ignored them and kept his mind on the job. True to her word, he wasn't expected to talk much, which was a good thing, because he was sure he would have made a fool of himself if he tried. But as the night wore on, Aria became more boisterous and touchy, and he had to focus more and more of his attention on keeping her steady and evading her roving hands.

The second time he caught her after she tripped, Cloud spoke into her ear. "Aria, you're having trouble walking. I think you've had enough to drink."

She glared at him. "Don't be stupid. I'm fine. It's these stupid heels that are the problem." She lifted one foot and peeled off the strap, and Cloud grabbed her as she lost her balance. "Oops," she giggled. Leaning heavily on his arm, she tried again, successfully pulling off the heel. Unsteadily pulling off the other strap and wiggling her foot out, she tossed the shoes to the side. "There. All better."

The other guests were also growing bolder as the champagne flowed. In the beginning, there were polite questions about her companion, and her polite response that he was just a friend. Into about the fourth hour of the party, an older woman covered with expensive jewelry draped her arm around Cloud's shoulder, startling him back to his immediate surroundings. "Aria," she drawled. "Who is this beautiful man you brought with you? Is he on the market?"

Aria looked annoyed as she pushed her arm off his shoulder. "No, Gentiana, he's not. This is Cl..ay. He's my boyfriend." Cloud noticed a subtle quieting of the people around them. Everyone seemed to be listening in.

Gentiana's eyes grew wide. "Really? Amazing that you managed to keep it out of the tabloids! How long has it been?"

Aria smiled and stroked his cheek. "Oh, not long." She leaned forward and gently kissed his lips. Cloud smiled tightly and leaned back, thinking that was the end of it, but she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeper. Her tongue snaked into his mouth, making him temporarily freeze as instinct battled with professionalism.

Nikki's resigned voice crackled in his ear. "Well, she announced it, so now you've got to sell it, Cloud."

Snapping out of his stupor, Cloud slipped his arms around her and leaned into it, kissing her back. Aria responded with a gentle moan and pressed her body against his. There was an audible gasp from the people surrounding them.

"Whoa! Cloud, it's sold! It's sold! Damn, back off, man!" Cloud winced at the voice cursing in his ear and gently pulled Aria away. She smiled lazily and leaned against his chest, ignoring all the people around them. Nikki's voice filled his ear again. "I think it's time to get her out of there, Cloud."

He stroked her cheek and leaned his head down, using the motion to get the speaker in his sleeve in front of his mouth.

"Leave _now?_ " he murmured. "You know what it will look like if we leave right after that?"

"It can't look any worse," Nikki growled. "It _looked_ like you were ready to get it on in the middle of the ballroom!"

He sighed and dropped his arm. It would be a relief to him anyway. "Want to get out of here?" he asked Aria.

She gazed up at him, her lips curving into a smirk. "Oh, yes." When she didn't move, he nudged her upright. She seemed to come back to herself and looked around at the bystanders. "Well, we're going to call it a night," she announced. "Thank you for a lovely evening." She made her rounds, slightly unsteady, saying the appropriate things to the appropriate people. Finally, he steered her out of the grand entryway, through the front door, down the red carpet, and into the waiting limo.

As soon as they were safely inside, he slumped into the seat. "God, that was exhausting."

Aria giggled as the limo started moving. "Aww, it wasn't that bad. You certainly made an impression though."

He frowned at her. "It really wasn't funny."

She laughed harder, slumping against his side. "It was hilarious, Cloud! You should've seen your face! Don't pretend you didn't like it."

_Well, there were certain parts that were more enjoyable than others..._

He scowled, irritated at the intrusive thoughts. "Why did you tell them I was your boyfriend, anyway? I thought I was just a friend."

Aria didn't seem concerned. "Oh, that. I just didn't want Gentiana to be hanging all over you all night. Only I get to do that tonight." She gave him a wicked smile that belied her casual tone.

To distract himself from that train of thought, and to put some space between them, he leaned forward to open the cooler and pulled out a couple of bottles of water, handing them to Aria. "Here, drink these. You're going to feel like ass tomorrow."

She continued giggling as she cracked open the first bottle and drank obediently. Cloud leaned his head against the seat and closed his eyes. He was never, ever taking a job like this again.

* * *

At first, the only thing Tifa was aware of was the pounding in her head. Anything else seemed like too much effort. But before long, nausea started competing for her attention. She tried to put her arms around her stomach, but they refused to cooperate. Instead, she leaned forward and splattered the floor with vomit.

"Well hey, look who's awake." The voice drilled into her head and she cringed away from it. She felt someone grab her chin and hold her head up. She groaned, unable to open her eyes against the bright light. "Mm, I bet you feel like hell right now. I bet you would kill for a potion."

Tifa tried to speak, but nothing came out. She licked her lips, trying to get some saliva to moisten her mouth. She tried again, and a hoarse whisper came out. "Yes, please. Potion."

Several voices in the room laughed. The hand holding up her head dropped it, and she slipped back into unconsciousness.

The next time she was aware, Tifa's head was a little clearer. Whatever they'd used to dose her after the chloroform seemed to be wearing off, but she had no idea how long she had been out. What had they done with Marlene while she sat there uselessly? She tried to get a feel for her surroundings before opening her eyes. Her arms and shoulders hurt like hell. Random sounds floated by, but she couldn't make sense of anything around her. She cracked open her eyes. Seeing no one in front of her, she gently tilted her head up. Her arms were above her head. There were metal cuffs around her wrists, chaining her to the wall.

She eased her head down to look below her. Her ankles were cuffed also, but at the moment they weren't pulling at her, so they were okay. With an effort, she got her feet underneath her and pushed herself up. The pressure on her arms eased up, but it was followed by a jolt of pain so intense that she couldn't stifle the cry. She tried to let herself back down, but it just got worse. Pain coursed up and down her arms and she bit down on her lip, trying to stay quiet. Tifa had taken some good knocks in her life, but this pain was intense and immediate.

She had drawn the attention of the occupants of the room. Incomprehensible sounds swirled around her as she fought for control of her body. Getting her feet under her again, she was able to struggle to a standing position, which allowed her to lower her arms somewhat. The blood that had been denied to them was rushing painfully back in. She focused on breathing in and out, willing the pain to stop. She felt a slap to her face that barely registered, and it was then that she realized that three men were standing in front of her, talking to her. With a supreme effort, she made some of the sounds into coherent words that she could understand.

"..Barret? Where is … damn it, answer me!" He struck her again, her head flopping uselessly to the side. She felt like a ragdoll, and staying on her feet was about all the control she could handle.

"That's enough for now," said a calm, cultured voice.

The first voice protested, but was quickly shut down by the calm voice again. "I said for now. She's barely coherent. We'll come back later, when she can more fully enjoy it."

Tifa kept her eyes closed, praying they would leave her alone. She heard them move away and turned all her concentration back to continuing to breathe.

The hours seemed endless, but at some point, she had managed to prop herself up in a position that wasn't unbearable and had lapsed into unconsciousness again. Fingers squeezing painfully on her face brought her back with a moan. She opened her eyes to the now-familiar stringy mustache – Jace, they had called him. The rest of his face looked drastically different, however. There were several brightly colored bulges on his jaw, and he was sporting a spectacular black eye and tape on his nose, swollen to a comical size. She smiled drunkenly, recognizing her handiwork.

He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him, steadying her wobbling head, which just gave her a better view. A laugh that she couldn't control bubbled up. "What's so funny?"

She giggled madly and finally managed to spit out, "You look like you got beat up by a girl."

The other two men in the room roared with laughter. He turned around and swore at them. "Oh shut up!" He looked back at the woman who should have been entirely at his mercy, but was actually _laughing_ at him. He smirked at her. "You think that's funny? Wanna hear something even funnier?" He cranked back his arm and punched her in the mouth.

Tifa had no way to protect herself. She couldn't move, couldn't block or shield herself. With her head against the wall, the shock of it bounced all the way through her body. Suddenly sobered, the last of the cobwebs cleared from her head. She tasted the rush of blood in her mouth and spit it out, angry at herself for her lapse of control.

Jace looked immensely proud of himself. He also looked like he was winding up to do it again.

"What do you want?" Tifa demanded, trying to stave off another hit.

"Oh, just to make your face as pretty as mine." Jace grinned maniacally. Tifa was afraid she had pushed him too far already.

"No." The bald man with the calm voice stepped forward, putting a hand on Jace's arm. "That's not what we want." Jace glared at him, but backed down. "We want to know about your friend Barret."

Tifa kept her face carefully blank. "I don't have any friends by that name."

The bald man raised an eyebrow. "In your position, it would be very unwise to lie to me. But I'm feeling generous. Let me give you one more chance."

Tifa stuck out her chin defiantly. "I don't _know_ anyone named _Barret_!"

He sighed and signaled to Jace, who happily delivered a blow to her solar plexus. She gasped, fighting for breath, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of crying out.

The bald man steepled his fingers under his chin and walked back and forth calmly in front of her. "Ms. Lockhart, let me give you a short history lesson. The Lupidius family has a very profitable business model operation in Wutai. This particular business has a rather limited clientele base. Historically that has not been a problem because our clients are extremely – shall we say – _dedicated_ to our product. But recently, sales have dropped quite sharply. Sources tell me that the market has been invaded by a man with a gun grafted onto his arm. Now, how many people do you think have that peculiar feature?"

He turned to her expectantly. Staring back blandly, Tifa said, "Is that even possible?"

The bald man made a slight motion to Jace with his finger. Tifa felt pain pulsing through her cheek as her head whipped to the side. Baldy squatted down in front of her as she gasped. Fresh blood dripped from her mouth, splattering his shiny black shoes.

"Ms. Lockhart. I really don't enjoy watching you go through this."

Jace snorted, and Tifa silently agreed.

Baldy gently tilted her chin up with a finger until her eyes met his. "There's no reason for you to suffer because your "friend" was foolish and careless. Just tell us how to find him and this will all be over."

Tifa stared at him passively. His attempt at playing 'Good Cop' wasn't very convincing, since he was the one to give the go-ahead for every hit. Her body ached to strike out at him, but she'd already tested the thick chains. They weren't going anywhere. Her mouth was filling with blood again. She spit it in his face.

Baldy's eye twitched, but he calmly pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his face.

Jace stepped forward, obviously itching to hit her again. "Michael, you're not gonna get through to her like that. There's no point trying to reason with her. Pain is the only thing she'll understand."

Michael nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps you're right, Jace. Why don't you try jogging her memory? I'll be back later." He strode towards the door, calm and controlled as ever. "Oh, and Jace? Use the knuckles."

Jace looked like a kid at Christmas.


	3. Pain and Pleasure

**Cl** oud woke up with a jerk when the limo door opened. Aria, looking equally sleepy, lifted her head from his lap. He climbed out and stretched, shaking the fog from his mind. He still had to get her back to her suite safely. He took her hand and attempted to lead her forward, but she resisted.

"Um, Cloud? My shoes?"

He stared at her, not comprehending. His drowsy mind finally remembered that she had kicked them off at the party. He swore under his breath, looking at the stretch of parking lot between the limo and the hotel that still needed to be crossed, and then at her bare feet.

"You're just gonna have to carry me," she said innocently.

"Fine," he sighed. He really didn't see any other choice, so he scooped her up, sweeping her feet out from under her. She snuggled into his chest, letting her eyes close again.

He carried her all the way around to the back to avoid the people in the lobby. They had exited through the grand lobby on the way to the party, attracting plenty of attention and pictures, but this was decidedly less glamorous. Her bare legs hung over his arm and her painstakingly styled hair was squashed against his chest.

Once they were inside, Cloud started to set her down, but she appeared to have fallen asleep in his arms, so he decided to leave her be. It would be easier to drop her off in her room if he could just tuck her in and sneak out anyway. The concierge gave them a strange look as he ushered them to the staff elevator, but said nothing to the stoic blond man in the expensive suit.

Cloud got to the door of the suite, trying not to joggle Aria while getting the key out of his pocket, swiping and opening the door. Apparently he was not as smooth as he thought, because she lifted her head just as he stepped inside. Or perhaps it was the sudden tensing of his body that woke her.

The room was completely dark. He had expected Mack and Giles to be here waiting. Instead of setting her down, he made a beeline for the bathroom off the kitchen, flipping lights on as he went. He kicked the door shut behind him and set her on her feet.

Aria watched in sleepy confusion as he ignored her completely, opening the bathtub curtains and closet doors. After he was satisfied that the room was empty, he sat her down on the edge of the immense tub. "Stay in here, and lock the door behind me."

She immediately stood back up. "What? Cloud, what's going on? Why?"

"Damn it, Aria," he snapped. "Just trust me. Please." He strode out the door and pulled it shut behind him, and waited until he heard the lock click. His fingers itched for his weapons, but they were all the way back in his room. He would have to go without them. He turned on every light in the suite and headed straight for the patio doors.

He was stopped short in the doorway of her bedroom, shocked at the carnage. Her suitcases had been completely emptied, clothes flung everywhere. Perfume bottles were shattered, mingled scents overwhelming the air. The bed had been stripped of its blankets and sheets, the mattress stabbed and ripped open.

Taking it all in, he crossed over to the patio door. As he'd suspected, the lock was broken. He backtracked through the suite, checking every nook and cranny of the elaborate rooms. Reassured that the intruder wasn't inside, he scanned the patio. It was empty as well. He glanced up at the roof. It was possible the intruder could be hiding up there, but his priority now was to get Aria out safely. He went back into the bedroom and closed the patio door, ignoring the useless lock. He pushed the vanity in front of it. It wasn't likely to stop anyone, but it would be noisy and buy him enough time to get her out if they tried to get past it. He crossed through the master bath to the other bedroom and pushed the vanity in front of that patio door too.

Closing her bedroom doors to hide the massacre, he returned to the bathroom door and knocked, leaning against the wall perpendicular to the door. "Ok Aria, you can come out now."

She opened the door and peeked out warily. "What was that all about?"

Cloud crossed his arms over his chest. "Where are Giles and Jake? They should be here. They should have had the premises secured before we got here."

"Oh…" Aria shrugged. "I gave them the night off after the party."

Cloud thunked his head against the wall. "Why would you _do_ that?"

"Well…" She drifted close and hooked a finger in his tie, loosening it. "I wanted you all to myself and I— "

He grabbed her arms and pushed her back. "Aria. Listen to me. Someone's been in here. This room isn't safe. We need to get out of here."

For the first time, Aria looked scared. "W... what? Where are we going to go?"

Cloud closed his eyes, cursing her security team for disregarding his advice about the suite. He shuffled the options in his mind and then grabbed her hand. "My room. It's registered under a fake name. No one will be looking for you there."

She resisted when he started to pull her. "Ok, just let me get some clothes."

He pulled harder on her hand, making her stumble after him. "There's no time," he said harshly. "I'll find something for you to wear." Truthfully, he did want to get her away from any potential danger, but foremost on his mind was preventing her from seeing the war zone that was her bedroom. She was already scared, and he didn't want her falling apart. This time, she let him pull her out the door.

They fled out into the hall, down the stairs. He kept her between his body and the wall, eyes scanning for anything suspicious, until they were safely inside his room. Letting go of her hand, he quickly checked the one main room and bathroom.

Aria stared at everything with wide eyes. Unlike her room, his looked like it hadn't been touched since the maid had been there. She wouldn't even have known someone was staying there, if not for the swords lined up against the wall. Did he really need so many? How many could he possibly use at once?

He returned to her, still standing in front of the door. Some of the tension had been released from his shoulders. "Ok. We'll be safe here. Come on."

She followed him cautiously into the small room. First things first – she couldn't sleep in that ridiculously fancy dress. He dug through his duffel bag, pulled out a t-shirt and pair of shorts and tossed them to her. She caught them reflexively, but she almost seemed to be in a trance. She just stood there and stared at him. He put his arm around her and led her to the bathroom. "You can change in here," he said, gently pushing her into the room, turning on the light, and closing the door.

That done, he crossed the room and knelt in front of his swords. He touched one of the blades, reassured by the solid metal on which he had always depended. Maybe that's why he was so off-kilter today. He felt naked without his weapons, unsure of how to handle himself without what was essentially an extension of his body.

He picked it up, feeling its familiar, solid weight. His hands knew every bump and chip in the handle. His fingers settled into the usual grooves. He held it for a few minutes, feeling his heart slow down. He was safe. Grounded. "It's just a job, Cloud," he murmured. "Get it together."

By the time Aria came out of the bathroom, he had peeled off his tie, jacket, and shirt, and was searching for a clean t-shirt. Seeing him shirtless seemed to bring her back to herself. She climbed onto the bed and stretched her bare legs out in front of her. "Oh my," she murmured, looking him over. "The view is so much better in your room."

He glanced up at her. The look in her eyes was pure heat. Uncomfortable under her intense examination, he turned his body away. "I'm looking for a shirt."

She chuckled. "It's so easy to get you flustered, Cloud, you know that? You're so transparent."

He pulled a shirt on over his head and looked at her sourly. "Glad I can amuse you." He picked up the two small side blades he had selected: small and light, better for the close quarters of the tiny room. He slid them both into the harness on his back. He would just have to deal with the pants for now, but he did want to get rid of the useless shiny shoes. He kicked them off and pulled on his sturdy boots, lacing them tightly. Remembering the earring in his pocket, he stood up and put it back in his ear. He took a deep breath, feeling like himself again.

He turned back to Aria. She had pulled up her knees, hugging them to her chest and staring off into space. Despite her brief return to her usual, flirty self, he was worried about her.

"Aria? Are you ok?" he asked gently.

She blinked and dragged her eyes over to him. "Cloud? What do you think they wanted? The person who broke into my room."

He sat down on the foot of the bed, sighing heavily. "I don't know. I think they might've been looking for something. It doesn't look like they were going after you, exactly, but I think they were angry. They... broke some of your things."

Her eyes widened and she hugged herself tighter, shivering slightly. "Why would someone do that? What do they want from me? I'm just…I'm scared."

He thought that it was the first time he'd seen her truly honest. Maybe the brash, cocky girl she presented to the world was just a façade to hide her insecurities. Maybe she was just like everyone else. And she looked so small and frightened, drowning in his too-large clothes. Cloud was torn between the urge to comfort her and his need to keep a professional distance. And he wondered – was it only his responsibility to make sure she would _be_ safe? Or was it equally important that she _feel_ safe?

Regardless of his responsibility, he hated to see the naked fear on her face. He _wanted_ her to feel safe. "We'll talk to your security guys about it tomorrow, but for tonight, you'll be safe here. I'll make sure of it."

Aria nodded with wide eyes. "Ok. Can you… will you hold me?""

His adrenaline had finally slowed down, but his protective instinct was just as strong. "Yeah, sure." He pulled off the harness and leaned the two blades against the nightstand where he could easily reach them if needed. He sat down next to her and leaned against the headboard. She immediately curled up against him, and he put an arm around her.

They sat there in silence, until gradually, she stopped shivering. The minutes passed. Her breathing slowed and he thought she might have fallen asleep, but then she spoke. "Cloud?"

"Hmm?"

"Your shirt stinks."

He laughed out loud. "I'm sorry. I gave you my last clean one."

She sat there in silence for another minute, and then she sat up. "Ok seriously, it really reeks. Can you please take it off?"

At least she was asking, not ordering, but he was still a bit suspicious of her motives, especially after her pointed observation earlier. "Is it really bothering you?"

"Yes. I wasn't going to say anything, but…"

He tried to suppress his smile. It wasn't that big of a deal. It probably did stink, and he wanted her to be able to relax. He sat up and pulled the shirt over his head. He settled back against the headboard and she snuggled back up to him, resting her cheek against the warmth of his chest.

"Better?"

"SO much better."

Maybe now she would sleep. She let out a contented sigh and wrapped an arm around him. He leaned his head against the headboard and let his mind wander. He really wanted his phone. He had called Tifa after he arrived the night before, but Denzel's call had him more worried than he had let on. A quick check on his voice mail would have calmed his nerves, but to be safe, to stay hidden, they needed to stay put until morning. He was fairly confident they had made it to his room undetected, but not sure enough to leave her alone to go retrieve it.

He thought about his conversation with Denzel that morning. It wasn't like Tifa to go somewhere without telling him, but maybe she'd left a note or something. He probably found it later. And either way, Denzel would've called Barret if they weren't back.

Actually, now that Barret had crossed his mind, it made perfect sense. Since both Marlene and Tifa were gone, she had probably taken Marlene somewhere to meet up with Barret. He'd been out of town for a while and he always picked up Marlene when he got back in. But why wouldn't they meet at Seventh Heaven? Cloud mentally shrugged. It could've been anything. There was no point trying to use logic when it came to Barret.

A light tickling sensation interrupted his internal argument. He looked down, watching Aria's fingers lightly probe the largest scar on his chest.

"What's this from?" she asked softly.

His mind flashed to long, gray hair, an insanely long sword, and the indescribable feeling of being impaled. He wasn't prepared for the memory or the feelings that came flooding back.

Aria pressed her hand over his chest and sat up to look at him. "Your heart is beating so fast. I'm sorry Cloud, I didn't mean to...whatever it was, it must have been terrifying."

Cloud forced a smile to his face. "No, it's ok, I just—it caught me by surprise. I haven't…it's been a long time since I thought about that." He swallowed the feelings back down. "It's just an old battle wound. No big deal."

She didn't look like she believed him, but she rested her head against him again. She traced several smaller, fainter scars. "All battle wounds?"

He let out a breath, willing his heart to slow down as he pushed the memory to the back of his mind. "Yeah. Lots of battles."

She continued running her fingers lightly over his skin. "What did you fight?"

"Some beasts. Various bad guys." He smirked at his phrasing, as if the world were divided by black and white, good and bad. That would make him the good guy then, wouldn't it?

"So then you would be the hero?" she asked, unconsciously echoing his thoughts.

Cloud grimaced. He hated that word. It implied bravery and goodness and happy endings, not a terrified man, half-destroyed Planet, and dead best friends. "No. I'm not a hero," he said roughly. "Just the guy who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Mm. Well you were my hero tonight." She slowly traced the contours of his chest.

He laughed uncomfortably. "I was just doing my job." But truthfully, it felt nice to watch out for someone who actually needed protecting.

Gradually her fingers worked their way down, over his abs, outlining every muscle. "You're very good at your job, Mr. Strife." She kissed his chest as her fingers glided over his belly button, moving lower.

Cloud put his hand over hers, stopping it. "Aria. Don't."

She blinked up at him. "Why? Don't tell me there's a Mrs. Strife." She smirked, her tone laced with disbelief.

"Um, no, but—"

"Someone you _want_ to be Mrs. Strife?"

"…No."

If she noticed his hesitation, she chose to ignore it. Casually, her hand drifted down to more sensitive areas and she rubbed against him absently. Cloud shifted, inhaling through his teeth. She had been teasing and touching him all night, and as much as he was trying to remain professional, he wasn't completely unaffected.

"But that's really...uh…distracting."

She tipped her head up to look at him. "Is it?" she asked innocently. She slid the palm of her free hand up to his shoulder and kissed his neck, gradually moving up to his ear. Her other hand rubbed faster. "How about this?" she breathed.

He closed his eyes, struggling to keep his voice even. "Actually, yes."

"Mmm." She slid one of her legs over his and pulled herself higher, nibbling along his jawline. She unbuttoned his pants and dragged down the zipper, painfully slow. "And this?"

"Aria, wait..." he whispered. His hands were on her shoulders, not quite pushing her away, but not embracing her, either.

She pulled herself onto his lap, kissing him gently, grinding her hips against his. He gasped and pulled her closer, returning her kiss with fervor. He could feel her maneuvering his pants down and he pulled his head away with an effort. "Aria. Stop. We shouldn't be doing this."

She sat up and pulled the baggy shirt over her head, then pressed her body against his. "Why shouldn't we? We're consenting adults. I want you. I can _feel_ how badly you want me."

"But I'm working for you. I'm g—guarding—ahh please stop that." He jerked as she slipped her hand inside his pants.

"Don't worry," she murmured against his lips. "You were off the clock at midnight. I'm not paying you for this."

Cloud was breathing heavily, struggling to put his thoughts into words. She was really quite convincing, and damn, it had been a long time for him. "But you're not just… looking for comfort…because you're…scared…"

"Cloud," she breathed. "Stop thinking. Just… say…. Yes…"

He threw his head back as she stroked him. "Ah.. fu.. uh.. yes. Gods, yes."

* * *

Tifa could no longer separate the parts of her body in her mind. Everything hurt. They hadn't bothered cleaning up the blood from the floor, so its overwhelming coppery scent was ever present. She lost count of the times they'd started on her, and how many times she passed out. She couldn't tell what was real and what was nightmare.

Perhaps it would be better to believe that some parts of her ordeal were only illusions of her fragmented mind, testament to her wavering sanity. Jace's abuse was painful, but the man with the samurai swords, Lawrence, had a different appetite altogether. She had humiliated him in that alley, and he wasn't content just to hit her.

She had tried to block out the sensations, picturing the beach on Costa del Sol, willing herself to feel the heat of the sun on her skin, the sand underneath her toes. But that feeling in the pit of her stomach never went away, and she never quite managed to escape the reality of what was happening to her. _Pain, pain, go away, come again some other day…_

The song had come to her, unbidden, twisting the lyrics of the innocent children's tune. It had played on repeat in her head even as she had desperately added details to her mental imagery: a sandcastle, a colorful towel, a beach umbrella. The combination had made the entire experience more surreal, easier to convince herself it hadn't actually happened.

Now that she had been left alone, she had a fuzzy impression of the TV on across the room, where her trio of captors spent most of their time – at least the time that wasn't spent on her. She had started to look forward to the incoherent sounds coming from the TV, because it always meant her reprieve.

She lifted her head to ascertain their location. One eye was not completely swollen shut, so she had limited use of her vision. The men were on the couch, yes. She thought one might be sleeping, but the other two were sitting up. A familiar, spiky blond head appeared on the television. She tried to lift her hand, to reach out to him, but it refused to obey. _Cloud…._

* * *

Cloud stared out the window, watching the dust motes sparkling in the morning sun. He had found a pair of his own pants to put on, and he shoved his hands in the pockets, leaning his forehead against the cool glass as he wrestled with his conscience. He was supposed to be guarding her. He should've said no, no matter what she said or did.

A warm hand touched his back. "Don't tell me you're feeling guilty now," Aria said dryly.

"I don't know," he said softly, closing his eyes. "I just…"

Her voice turned acidic. "Is this about that barmaid?"

He spun around, his eyes narrowed dangerously. "How do you know about her?"

Aria took a step back, but raised her chin defiantly. "Honestly, Cloud, do you think I just drew your name out of a hat? Do you really think I didn't research your background before I hired you? I know everything about you."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "You know who I am."

"Yes."

"And you knew just what cards to play."

She scoffed. "Oh, don't act like such a victim. You certainly weren't complaining last night."

His arms dropped and he turned his back to her, staring out the window again. "Yeah." She was right; he had no one else to blame for his actions.

She slipped her arms around him from behind and rested her chin on his shoulder. "Wait. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lash out at you. I'm just tired. I'm not used to being kept up all night like that." There was a smile in her voice, but he shrugged her off.

"It's fine." He walked away from her to retrieve his shirt and quickly reassembled the six blades of his sword. He strapped on the harness and slid the giant assembly into it. He reached for his phone to check the time, but there was only empty space at that place on his hip. "What time is it?"

"Almost 8:00."

"And what time are your guards supposed to be on duty?"

"They're usually in around 6."

He swore and grabbed her hand, pulling her out of the room.

"Hey, stop it! What's the big deal?" She resisted being pulled along against her will.

"Don't you think they might have started panicking when they found your trashed room and couldn't find you?" he said as he dragged her down the hall.

"Oh…right. Yeah, probably."

They went up to the penthouse first, but none of her staff was there. The room was closed off, completely empty.

Cloud pushed his hand through his hair. "Shit! Where else would they be?"

Aria thought for a moment. "The prep room. Where you got dressed yesterday."

He nodded and they hurried back down the hall. As soon as they opened the door, a room full of anxious people turned to look.

"Aria!" A small shape rushed over and engulfed her in a hug. "Oh my God, where have you _been_? We were so worried!" Nikki fussed over her hair, alternately petting it and hugging her.

"Nikki, I'm fine. We stayed in Cloud's room last night."

She pulled back and examined Aria's clothing. She was wearing the shirt and shorts she had slept in, clearly not hers. Nikki's eyes flashed, and she charged over to Cloud, slapping him across the face. "You bastard! You were supposed to be guarding her, not taking advantage of her! We trusted you! You're supposed to be a professional! How could you?" She pounded ineffectually on his chest as Cloud backed away, startled.

"Nikki, stop!" Aria pulled back on her shoulder. "Stop it! We had to get out of the room. I didn't have time to get my own clothes. He just gave me some to sleep in."

Nikki turned back to Aria, stroking her face. "You're really ok, sweetie? I was so scared."

Cloud was surprised to see actual tears on Nikki's face. Apparently, she was more than just a personal assistant. She put her arm around Aria's shoulder and led her over to the others, who had been anxiously watching the drama. Now they fawned over Aria, everyone talking over everyone else.

As soon Aria she was safely absorbed by her people, Nikki turned back to glare at Cloud. "You. Get out."

He held his hands up placatingly. "Fine. I just need my phone."

She stormed over to the table to pick it up, and then smacked him on the chest with it.

He grabbed it before it could fall. "Aria..."

Aria was still dealing with all of the people competing for her attention, and she didn't look up. Nikki opened the door. "You've done enough. Just leave."

He backed out. The door slammed in his face.


	4. White Knight

Tifa heard the scuffling of shoes being dragged across the floor. She lifted her head and tried to focus on the blurry movement in front of her. She heard a familiar cry.

"Tifa!"

She jerked up, trying and failing to stand. "Marlene!"

Marlene tried to run to Tifa, but she couldn't escape the hand gripping her arm.

"Tifa, you're hurt, they hurt you!"

"I'll be ok, sweetie." Tifa swallowed, hoping it was true. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm scared." Her wide, puffy eyes testified to the truth of her statement, but she looked otherwise unharmed.

Tifa tried to give her a comforting smile, but all she could manage was a grotesque imitation with her swollen, bloody face. "I know, baby, me too."

Michael's calm, collected voice broke up their brief reunion. "Yes, well. It seems we've come to an impasse, Ms. Lockhart. You've proven to be quite obstinate, despite our good faith attempts at negotiation. It would seem that we need to find a more valuable currency in order to persuade you."

He took Marlene's chin, tilting her face toward him. "Well… Lawrence has peculiar tastes. I believe he would enjoy this little darling quite as much as he's enjoyed you."

"No!" Tifa lunged forward, only to be stopped sharply by her chains. "No, she's just a child!"

"Tifa?" Marlene's voice trembled.

"Please! You can't be that much of a monster. She's a little girl!"

His professional disinterest in the face of their terror shredded at Tifa's frayed composure – the perfect gentleman. He examined his fingernails casually, as though they were discussing what to eat for lunch. "Well, I suppose I've been called worse. In any case, the choice is entirely up to you, Ms. Lockhart. You can either provide a tiny piece of information about your traitorous friend, or you can let this darling little angel go ah… play... with Lawrence."

It was an impossible choice. Betray her friends, or let an innocent little girl be destroyed. A child she had sworn to protect with her life. A child she loved with all her heart. But so many of her friends worked out of the safe house in Wutai, and she could see evidence of the bomb they were building here. How could she make that choice?

After watching her for a moment, patiently waiting for a decision, Michael sighed sadly. "Very well, then." He pressed some buttons on his phone. "Lawrence, come in here please."

"Stop!" Tifa sobbed, lunging forward again. The chains snapped harshly. "I'll tell you. Just promise you'll leave her alone. I'll tell you." Her body sagged and she dropped her head in defeat. Tears mingled with the drying blood on the floor.

The door opened, and the man with the twin samurai swords entered.

"Ah, Lawrence," Michael said cordially. "Please escort this young lady back to her room. Thank you."

Lawrence took Marlene's hand and pulled her toward the door. Marlene looked frantically between him and Tifa, looking for some kind of signal from her, desperate for a reaction to tell her what to do. She didn't understand what the man with the funny voice meant, but Tifa wouldn't even look at her. Uncertainly, she allowed herself to be pulled out of the room. The door closed behind them.

Tifa heard Michael's slow footsteps approaching, but she didn't have the will to raise her head. "Now then. It's time for your part of the bargain."

* * *

Cloud reached the outside of the hotel before slumping against the wall and sliding to the ground. _You idiot! What were you thinking? No wonder you never made SOLDIER. You have no self-discipline. You're weak, weak, weak._

After several minutes of focused self-loathing, Cloud remembered that he needed to check his messages. He pulled out his phone and pressed the button. No response from the device. "Dead. Of course." He let his head fall back against the hard brick. _Just go home. Put this nightmare job behind you._ He put away his phone and pushed himself to his feet.

The return trip took much less time than the original trip, but Cloud couldn't really feel good about it. He had been angry and reckless. He'd driven far too fast, cutting in and out of lanes, too closely to the other drivers. Blaring horns were his serenade for most of the day. Late that afternoon, he pulled up to Seventh Heaven and turned off his bike.

For a moment, he just sat and absorbed the comfort of the familiar building. He tried to find some solace in seeing Barret's truck there. At least he'd been right about that. Barret had been in town to pick up Marlene.

He trudged to the door, looking forward to being with people he cared about. Tifa would nag him about his sunburn and cook him some real food. Marlene and Denzel would tell him about everything that happened while he was gone, interrupting each other to tell the best parts of the story. And Cloud would tell them… absolutely nothing about his weekend.

He pulled open the door, and knew immediately something was wrong.

"Where the hell have you been?"

Cloud shrugged. "Good to see you too, Barret."

Barret stormed over to him. "You think this is funny? Where the hell have you _been_?"

Cloud pushed past him. "I've been working."

Barret spun him around. He grabbed his chin and jerked it to the side. "Oh, really? I wasn't aware you did the kind of 'work' that left marks like that on your neck."

Cloud shoved his hand away and scowled. "What the hell is your problem, man?"

"My _problem_ is that Marlene is gone. Tifa, too. No one has seen them in two days. And you're off somewhere 'working' and can't even be bothered to answer your damn phone!"

"What? What do you mean, gone? Didn't…." He trailed off. His mind skittered through his memories, reshaping his mental image of everything he thought had happened. "Denzel never..."

"Cloud!" Denzel ran into the room, wrapping his arms around Cloud's legs. Cloud picked him up and held the terrified little boy. "Tifa... Marlene... they…" He was crying so hard that he couldn't get the words out.

Cloud stroked his hair. "I know, buddy. We'll find them. It'll be ok. Shhh."

Despite the words coming out of his mouth, he was terrified. He had no idea where to start looking. He had no idea what had happened to them. And the guilt was overwhelming.

Slowly, Denzel's cries subsided to hiccups. "I'm so glad you came back, Cloud. You always know how to make everything right." Cloud felt a pang at his words. Why did this little boy have so much faith in him?

A deep voice interrupted their emotional reunion. "Cloud. We need to talk."

For the first time, Cloud realized that Vincent and Cid were in the room as well. He set down Denzel and crouched down in front of him as he wiped his face. "Hey, Denz, have you guys eaten yet?"

Denzel shook his head. "N—no. We've been—" His lip began to quiver again.

"You remember those sandwiches Tifa taught you to make? Why don't you go whip up some of those for everyone?"

"B—but-"

"We've still gotta eat, Denz. It would be a huge help. Ok?"

Denzel nodded, even smiling a little as he dashed off to the kitchen. Cloud sighed and stood up. "So? What do we know?"

"Not much," Vincent said grimly. "We know that Tifa left a bag of garbage next to the dumpster out back, and the dumpster itself was pretty smashed up. There was quite a bit of blood in the gravel, so we're pretty sure that whatever happened went down in the alley. A witness reported seeing a floral delivery van in the alley that night."

"Did you call the company?"

"We tried. Apparently they went out of business years ago. The fleet was sold off to various rental companies. It's a dead end."

Cloud nodded and started toward the back door.

"Hey!" Barret grabbed his arm. "We ain't done here, Cloud."

Cloud shoved him off. "Hate me later, Barret. Right now we need to put all our energy into finding them."

* * *

"Ms. Lockhart. How are you this fine evening?" He didn't wait for a response. "We checked out that address you gave us. Lovely neighborhood, by the way. Do you know what we found?"

She didn't lift her head. Michael grabbed her chin and lifted it for her. "I said, do you know what we found?"

Tifa shook her head wearily.

"Dust. A _lot_ of dust. Enough to lead me to believe that no one has been there for a _very_ long time." He watched her closely for a reaction, but her poker face never flickered. "You lied to us, Ms. Lockhart. Our relationship is based on trust, and that trust has been broken now. But you see, I do still keep my promises."

Again, the scrabbling of small feet scraping uselessly against the floor. Lawrence dragged in a struggling Marlene. Tifa's one eye grew wide – the other still too swollen to open.

"Ok, wait. I-I made a mistake. I got confused! But I have it straight now. I can give you the right place."

Michael tsk, tsked. "I want to believe you of course, but as I said, our trust has been broken." He stroked Marlene's cheek absently. "Well, I'm not a heartless man. I believe in second chances. And you will get another chance to tell us… after I have upheld my part of the bargain."

He nodded to Lawrence, who promptly picked up Marlene and threw her over his shoulder.

"No!" Tifa cried, pulling uselessly against the chains.

Marlene screamed. She pounded on Lawrence's back with little fists. She tried to kick her legs, but he held them down easily with one arm.

Tifa struggled as she watched Marlene's tear-stained face disappear through the door. "You bastard. You evil fucking _bastard_!"

"Sticks and stones, my dear. I must tell you though; this is not a good way to re-establish a trusting relationship."

Tifa slumped back to the floor. "Go to hell."

A muffled bang rang through the house, but Tifa couldn't find the will to care. She was vaguely aware that Michael had left the room. There were other sounds, but she was too full of internal pain to notice. This kind of pain was far worse than the physical kind they had inflicted on her so far. This kind of pain, she was not sure if she could bear. "I'm so sorry, Marlene," she whispered.

Another sound drifted through the fog of her emotional turmoil.

"Tifa? TIFA!"

She felt herself lifted like a ragdoll. Among all the smells to which she'd become accustomed over the past few days, a new one mingled. This one was familiar. It smelled like home.

"Oh fuck..." Cloud said under his breath, almost sounding more tortured than she felt. "Tifa… I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

Cloud held her awkwardly against the wall, taking the weight off of the chains on her wrists, but unable to stand up fully or hold her away from the wall.

"Vincent! Find the fucking keys!"

There was a faint response that Tifa couldn't make out.

"I don't know where, just look for them! Check the bodies!" Cloud lowered his voice again, eyes scanning over Tifa with concern. "Oh fuck. FUCK! Just hang in there, Tifa. It'll be ok."

Tifa didn't want to think anymore. She felt safe in his arms, surrounded by his warmth and his familiar smell. But something nagged at the edge of her mind. "Marle—"

"Shh, it's ok. Don't try to talk, just hang on. We'll get you out of here."

Tifa struggled to lift her head. "Marlene. She's here too."

"Marlene's ok. She's with Barret. Just take it easy." He tried to stroke her hair, which wasn't particularly comforting with its bloody mats and snarls and sore spots on her head. His voice rose again. "Vincent! Where the fuck are the keys! Get her off this fucking wall!"

Tifa chuckled weakly from where her head rested limply on his shoulder. "Cloud… I've never heard you say _fuck_ so much…"

Finally, she drifted off to the constant, whispered stream of his apologies, his swearing, his reassurances in an endless loop. She thought that she should have felt bad. His pain was almost palpable in its raw form. But his voice was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard.

* * *

Denzel held Marlene tightly in her bed. He had been tucked into his own, but he had climbed in with her the second the door closed. She had been quiet ever since she had returned home in Barret's arms earlier that evening. Her face was pinched and drawn, and now she stared blankly up at the ceiling. She had no injuries beyond some minor scrapes and bruises. Barret and the other adults had examined her and asked questions, but Marlene only shook her head when she responded at all. Finally, they tucked her and Denzel into bed. He knew that meant that it was time for the grownups to talk. Denzel didn't mind. The grownups never said very much when he was in the room, but he heard every word through the vents and the paper thin walls when they sent him away.

In the main area of the bar, Barret shoved Cloud roughly against the wall. "You did _what_?"

"I gave her something to help her sleep," Cloud said calmly.

"Why the hell did you do that? Now she won't be able to tell us anything about the people who took her and Marlene. How the hell are we gonna find them? What if they have friends? What if they come back for them?"

"Barret." Cloud's voice was flat, reasonable. "She was in too much pain. She needs to rest. She needs time."

His calm voice only further enraged Barret. He paced the room restlessly. " _Time_? That only gives their _friends_ more time to figure out what happened and come back for them!"

"Barret." As usual, Vincent's quiet authority snapped everyone's attention to him. "Tifa hasn't had any food or water for two days. Her injuries are severe. She hasn't the strength or the clarity of mind to tell us anything useful."

"But…what if there are more of them? What if they come back?" Barret's argument weakened, unable to hold the same rage against Vincent as he could with Cloud.

"We won't let them out of our sight. They'll have to go through all of us before they get to them again. They're safe now. Have patience."

Barret sulked like a petulant child. "Well we wouldn'ta had to ask her if Cloud hadn't _killed_ every one of them."

Cloud's eyes flashed, but he didn't move from the place where he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. "They are _lucky_ that's all I did to them."

Barret stormed up to him once again. "Yeah. You're right!" He grabbed Cloud's shirt and slammed his back against the wall again. "How _thoughtful_ of you. We could have questioned them! We could have gotten some damn answers!"

Cloud shoved Barret away. "Oh really? How exactly would you do that? Would you torture them? Would you hold someone they cared about hostage and use it against them? We're not _like_ them, Barret. We don't go around hurting people to get what we want." He narrowed his eyes as a thought occurred to him. "Unless those people happen to live too close to a Mako reactor that you decide to blow up."

It was a low blow, and it knocked the wind out of Barret. "That's not – you know I never meant –"

Cloud felt his carefully controlled rage simmering under the surface. He didn't want to listen to Barret try to make any more excuses. "Vincent. Cid. You'll stay here with the others?"

"Well sure, Cloud," Cid said. "Going somewhere?"

"I need to take a drive," Cloud muttered as he stalked out the door.

Cloud started Fenrir, reveling as always in the rumbling of the powerful engine, the vibration between his legs. He tore out of the parking lot, tires screeching loudly on the pavement. He knew a place he could go. And he needed to go there before he exploded.

Across town, he stopped his bike at the warehouse. It was abandoned now, and it had cement walls that were perfect for his intentions. The rusty doors squealed against their hinges as he opened them to the huge, darkened room. He pulled them shut behind him and locked them. He didn't expect anyone to show up, but he didn't want to chance someone finding him there.

He walked calmly to the far wall. For a moment, he stared at the uneven concrete, the tiny holes and jagged lumps that covered the entire room. Then, with all his strength, he punched the wall. He felt his skin split with that first strike, but the pain wasn't enough. He struck out again with fury, a flurry of punches, hammering at the wall until his muscles started to tire, until the wall was splattered with his blood, dripping down the concrete and spreading over the floor. He struck it until his energy flagged, and his strength gave out, until he finally collapsed to the ground. And he sobbed. It could never be enough. The amount of blood he spilled was nowhere near the puddle of Tifa's blood that he'd stepped in. His pain could never compare to the things she'd endured. And while she was being tortured, while she had done everything in her power to protect Marlene, what had he been doing? He had been _working_. Except he hadn't even been working. He'd been screwing the girl he was supposed to be protecting.

Cloud had vowed to stop living in the past. He'd sworn to himself, and to Tifa, that he would forgive himself for his mistakes. He would accept that he couldn't change the things that had happened, and that he could only control his own actions in the future.

_Control_? He thought bitterly. _You have no control. You swore you would do better. But you didn't. You're no better than you ever were. And Tifa's the one who has to pay for it._

He slumped against the cold concrete wall. He clenched his hair in his bloody fists, tinting the pale strands a vivid red. _Why? Why did it have to be her? Gods, why can't I stop screwing up?_


	5. Smells Like Home

 

Cloud wiped gently at the dried blood on Tifa's leg. He had been at it for hours, cleaning her up, each new wound he discovered another slash to his soul. He had used his Restore materia as soon as they'd gotten home, but it only healed the most superficial of her wounds. Ever since the Geostigma had been banished and Jenova's influence dulled in the LifeStream, materia had been much less powerful, so they were back to healing without magic. He dunked the rag back in the bucket of warm water and dabbed some more, finally finding the source of most of the blood. The gash was big and it was deep. The edges were an unhealthy red, probably infected. It would definitely need stitches.

As he continued working, he felt a soft touch on his hair. He looked up. "Tifa. You're awake."

Her mouth moved, but no sound came out.

Cloud jumped up. "Just wait. Let me get you some water." He helped her sit up enough to drink carefully from the cup, and then eased her back down.

"Cloud," she rasped. "I dreamed about you. I dreamed you were on TV."

"Shh," Cloud soothed her. "Don't try to talk yet. Just go back to sleep."

Obediently, Tifa closed her eyes. Drinking the water had expended most of her energy. The next time she awakened, she felt some of her strength returning. She struggled to sit up.

"Hey, let me help you." Cloud put an arm behind her back, easing her up onto pillows.

Tifa held on to his wrist. "What happened to your hands?"

His hands were completely covered in thick bandages, from his wrists almost to his fingertips, although the rest of him looked unharmed. After he had awakened on the cement floor of the warehouse, he knew he had to do something with his hands. He got up and went to the large industrial sink in the corner. He had let the water pour over his knuckles, cleaning off the dried blood and starting the stinging anew. They weren't pretty. He had covered them in bandages and then wrapped them in strips of cloth.

Catching a glimpse of his reflection in the window as he started to leave, he had realized that he couldn't go home yet. His face and hair were streaked with blood and grime. The black and red stood out sharply in contrast to his pale skin and hair. He had trudged back to the sink in the corner with the painfully cold water. He could at least get rid of some of the evidence of his breakdown, but there wasn't much he could do to hide the bandages on his hands.

He pulled his hands away from her gently. "It's nothing. Do you want to try eating something? I made you some soup."

Tifa attempted a smile. " _You_  cooked?"

"Well, I tried. I'm not sure if it's any good." He shrugged sheepishly.

"Sure, I'll be your guinea pig. But if I end up getting poisoned, it's on you," she teased.

Cloud turned away, hiding his pained expression. Everything was already on him. "I'll get some."

Entering the kitchen, Cloud pulled out the soup from the nearly empty fridge. He wasn't sure what the rest of them were going to eat. With Tifa out of commission, the bar had been closed. After being unceremoniously thrown out by Nikki, he hadn't even gotten paid for that last job, and there was no way he was taking another job now. He supposed he could ask some of their friends for help, but he had always had a hard time relying on others.

He poured the soup into a pot and turned on the stove, sifting through the mail from yesterday while he waited. It was awkward with the thick bandages on his hands. He dropped bills, catalogs, and junk mail back on the counter. The one slender envelope remaining was addressed to him. He tore it open and found a check with a stationary-style note. He looked at the note first.

Cloud,

Sorry I missed you when you left. Your services were greatly appreciated. You're quite good at what you do. I'm sure I will be in need of your assistance again soon.

XOXO  
Aria

He wondered if the innuendos were all in his imagination. He flipped over the check to read the front. It was much more than the contract had stipulated. He snorted. "Thought you said you weren't paying me for that."

He felt like a whore, but he wasn't going to refuse the money. They needed it, especially now. The hissing at the stove drew his attention back to the overflowing pot.

"Damn it!" He shoved the check and note in his pocket and rushed over to pull the pot off the stove. He dropped it on the other burner, splattering his arm with the hot liquid. "Ah!" He shook his arm, wondering if he were the only person in the world who was so inept at cooking.

By the time he managed to get some soup in a bowl and bring it back out, Tifa had fallen back asleep, propped up on her mass of pillows. He set the bowl on the table and resumed his place next to her bed. He gently brushed the hair away from her eyes, then went back to tending her wounds.

She didn't wake when he disinfected the gash on her leg, nor when he stitched it up. He worked his way up, tenderly examining her bruised wrists. The bruising was extensive, dark and extending up her forearm, but nothing seemed to be broken. Tending to her wounds pained him, but he wouldn't let anyone else help. It was his penance.

Finally, he reached her face. Even with the cuts and bruises decorating it, she was achingly beautiful. He traced a line with his fingers from her cheekbone down to the corner of her mouth. She stirred and opened her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," he said softly.

"It's ok. I'd rather talk to you. Cloud -"

"Wait," he interrupted. "You need to eat." He picked up the soup bowl and stirred it around, holding the spoon awkwardly with the thick bandages. "Oh. It's cold."

Tifa tried not to laugh. He looked so crestfallen. "That's ok, Cloud. I don't mind."

He looked up at her doubtfully. "I can heat it up again."

She squeezed his leg gently. "Really. I don't want anything hot right now anyway." Honestly, she didn't feel like eating anything at all, but she didn't want to hurt his feelings.

He studied her face, reading her sincerity. "Ok." He awkwardly tipped a spoonful into her mouth. Half of it dribbled down her chin. Looking distraught, he dabbed at it with the blanket.

She chuckled. It was really endearing, how he was trying to take care of her. "Um. I can do that." She took the bowl from him gently. He let her have it, moving away to sit in his chair.

Tifa stirred the soup idly and watched the contents swirl around in the bowl. "Cloud, listen. I think Barret is in trouble. I think he might be involved in some kind of drug operation in Wutai."

Cloud frowned. "Drugs? Really? I thought they were running that underground rescue operation out of Wutai."

"They are. But…maybe that's not the only thing. Maybe he got in to something on the side. Something involving the Lupidius family."

He crossed his arms and leaned back against the chair. "What makes you think that?"

"Those guys that were holding us – they were looking for him. They said that a man with a gun arm had butted in to their territory. He wasn't specific, but I mean, they didn't look like they were selling cookies."

Cloud felt the latent current of anger surging back up, but he smothered it before it reached the surface. "I'll look into it," he said offhandedly. "You should finish eating and get some rest."

"Cloud," Tifa said sternly, seeing right through his act. "Don't treat me like a child. I want to know what you find out and what you plan to do about it."

He shrugged and picked at a piece of fuzz on the blanket. "Sure."

They sat there in silence while Tifa continued eating, Cloud lost in his own thoughts. Finally she broke his reverie.

"You know, this is actually pretty good. Maybe I'll have you start cooking all the time."

Cloud glanced up, surprised, but then his eyes narrowed. "Are you making fun of me?"

"No! Really, it's… well, maybe it could use some salt or... maybe some flavor... but it's a good start."

He grinned, relieved to hear her teasing him once again. "Yeah, I couldn't figure out how to make the water taste like anything but uh..." he coughed lightly, "water."

She laughed and, for just a moment, the sound almost lifted the weight from his shoulders. Almost.

* * *

Cloud paced the floor restlessly, impatient for Barret to return. Finally, the door opened and an exuberant Barret walked through, holding Marlene on one hip. She was smiling and finishing off the last of an ice cream cone. Most of the ice cream looked like it had ended up on her face.

For Marlene's sake, Cloud kept his face carefully blank. "Hey Barret. Got a minute?"

Barret's laughter stopped abruptly and he glared at Cloud, setting Marlene down. "Not really. Me 'n Marlene are gonna pack up her stuff and go. She's comin' with me."

Cloud decided to address the more reasonable of the duo. "Hey Marlene. I think Denzel is in your bedroom. Why don't you go and play with him for a while? You can use the chalk if you promise to clean it up later."

Marlene looked back at the large black man uncertainly. Barret couldn't seem to stay angry when he looked at her. "Ah, go ahead," he grunted. Marlene grabbed the chalk and ran up the stairs.

As soon as her footsteps subsided, Cloud said, "You're not taking Marlene with you."

Barret's anger flared back to the surface. "The hell I ain't! She's my damn daughter and you don't tell me when I can and can't take her home with me! I left her with Tifa because I thought you guys could keep her safe. And look what happened to her! Why the hell would I trust her with you again?"

Cloud spoke calmly. "Listen to me. You have a mess to clean up in Wutai, and you're not bringing that little girl in the middle of it."

Barret bristled. He didn't like to be told what to do, especially by a spiky-haired little punk like Cloud. He shoved him back. "I don't know what makes you think you can—"

Cloud finally lost his cool, shoving Barret against the wall. "They were looking for you! Those guys that took them, they wanted information about whatever shit you're pulling in Wutai. All that time, they were doing God-knows-what to Tifa and Marlene, because you had to mess with the biggest fucking crime family on the planet! What were you  _thinking_? How could you be so selfish?"

Barret grabbed the bandaged hands at his chest and shoved them away, not even noticing the wince on Cloud's face. "Don't you  _ever_  touch me again." He stormed out the door, slamming it behind him.

Marlene listened with wide eyes to the grownups fighting downstairs. Her daddy always yelled a lot, but she  _never_  heard Cloud get mad. Tifa used to say that was 'cause he held everything inside, but Marlene thought he would've had to explode if he held on to that much.

Denzel put his arm around the little girl. He didn't understand what they were yelling about, but he knew he'd do anything to get that scared look off of Marlene's face. She'd been doing better today, but now she was starting to pull back into her shell.

"Hey," Denzel said. "Want me to draw that dragon for you again? I'm getting better now. I can add a princess in a tower this time, too, and a brave knight slaying the dragon."

"No." Marlene sniffed and shook her head slowly. "You should put the knight in the tower. The princess can save  _him_."

* * *

Things were calming down around Seventh Heaven. Barret had left the day after their confrontation. Cloud had walked out into the empty bar area that night to find Barret helping himself to a pint of whiskey. He sat down on the stool next to Barret and poured himself a couple fingers, sipping at the whiskey while he waited for the brooding man to get his thoughts together.

Finally, Barret spoke up gruffly. "I know I messed up, Cloud. An' I know I gotta fix it. But I don't know how." He took another swig from the bottle and chanced a look at the blond man beside him. "I could use some backup."

Cloud's eyes narrowed. "I'm not leaving Tifa. It's your fault she's—"

Barret slammed his hand down on the bar. "Damn it, Cloud, don't you think I  _know_  that? Marlene was there too, and I ain't never gonna forgive myself for that. If something happened to her…" He trailed off, looking so miserable that Cloud couldn't bear to chastise him again.

Finally, he took some pity on him. "I don't know, Barret. Check with some of our other friends if you want, but leave me out of it. Maybe… maybe the Turks could help you straighten it out. They have contacts everywhere."

Barret stared off into space, looking desolate. Cloud left him and went to bed.

The next day, the two men had parted on better terms. Barret threw the last of his gear in the trunk. "Spiky… you'll take care of Marlene, right?"

Cloud nodded. "Always."

Marlene had hugged Barret tightly around the neck and he had pretended she was squeezing too hard, as always. She giggled and kissed his cheek. "Love you, Daddy."

Cloud had gone into the kids' room later that afternoon. They hadn't cleaned up their drawing on the wall, and he wasn't going to make them. The princess had long, dark brown hair and black leather gloves, and was kicking some serious dragon ass.

It had been over a week since he had left, and Tifa was starting to move around a bit more. Thanks to the S-gene infusions he'd received during Hojo's experiments, Cloud healed extraordinarily fast, and his hands were already back to normal. He wished he hadn't healed so quickly, because Tifa certainly wasn't. But she'd been able to shower, which seemed to lift her mood considerably.

By this time, the kids were starting to go stir crazy. They hadn't been allowed outside since Cloud had returned.

"Come on Cloud, pleeeeeease?" Denzel begged. "You can come with us. Nothing will happen if you're there!"

"Sorry, Denz, Tifa's not—"

"Tifa needs to get out of this house too," Tifa interrupted, pushing herself to her feet.

"But you—"

"Shut up, Cloud," Tifa cut him off again. "I'm taking them out, whether you come with us or not."

She was bluffing, but she knew he wouldn't call her on it, and he didn't. "Urgh. Fine," he grumbled.

Their day trip was uneventful and short. Tifa was favoring her bad leg, but she refused to let anyone help her. She also refused to admit that it was hurting her, but Cloud could see beads of sweat popping out on her face and the strain around her eyes that she was trying so hard to hide. Tifa had always been the strong one, holding everything together while everyone around her fell apart. Admitting weakness, to her, would be worse than actually dealing with it.

"Alright guys, time to head back!" Cloud announced.

Dual groans rose from the kids. "Aww Cloud! We barely even left!" Denzel moaned.

"Yeah, come on! It's not fair!" Marlene whined.

"Too bad. I'm hungry. It's time to go back." Cloud turned around and started walking back toward Seventh Heaven.

More overlapping whining followed him. "Sorry, guys. A man's gotta eat." He softened at their combined efforts to overwhelm him with guilt. "Tell you what, though. After we eat, I'll play something with you both, ok? Whatever you want."

This gave the kids pause. Cloud hardly ever played with them, but it was always a blast when he did. Marlene and Denzel looked at each other, some kind of silent communication passing between their eyes. Marlene finally looked up slyly. "Airplane?"

Cloud groaned. He'd stepped right into that one. " _Airplane_? Don't you think you guys are getting a little too big for that?"

Airplane was a game he'd invented when they were much smaller. It involved a kid wrapped around each outstretched arm while he ran around and pretended to be a plane, tilting each "wing" as he turned corners and usually crashed into several pieces of furniture. They giggled madly and hung on for dear life until finally being deposited on the couch. But now, they were much bigger and heavier, and the thought of hauling them around for long periods of time was less than appealing.

Denzel gave him a stern look that he'd doubtless learned from Tifa. "Cloud, you said  _whatever_   _we_   _want_."

Tifa snickered next to him. "Aww come on, Cloud. You could use the workout. You've been a bum for weeks."

Cloud gave her a look that clearly said 'Please don't help.' It was true though; he'd been at her bedside for the better part of two weeks. He sighed in resignation. "Alright, airplane it is. Let's go."

After they had eaten and cleaned up the kitchen together, Cloud and the kids headed upstairs and Tifa settled herself on the sofa, trying to get comfortable with her aching leg. She turned on the TV and flipped through the channels. With only 4 stations still broadcasting in Edge, she didn't have a lot of options. News.  _Click_. Documentary on pollution in the slums.  _Click_. Some entertainment news program.

Just as she was about to check the final channel, she saw that familiar spiky blond head. "Aria's New Mystery Lover" was displayed in the banner across the bottom. She smiled, thinking that Cloud wasn't really as unique as he thought with that hair. She watched as the camera zoomed in on the couple. And then she dropped the remote.

_Oh shit! That_ _**is** _ _Cloud!_

_Wow, in a tux, he actually looks… really hot._ Tifa found herself staring at the screen, quite unable to help herself.

_Damn. Guess that must've been the last-minute gig he had. Protecting Aria? THE Aria? That's impressive. How did he even land that job? He's really gotten—_

An unexpected surge of pain shot through her as she watched Cloud kiss the beautiful redhead on the screen. It was just so  _intense_. A wave of shock traveled through the lavishly decorated people surrounding the couple, a reflection of her own reaction. She'd never exactly thought he was celibate, but she would never have expected him to be capable of such passion. He put up so many walls. Could it really be that easy to get past them?

_Maybe he only puts up those walls for you…_

That really hurt. At one time, she had thought there was something there. That last night in the Northern Cave, she had felt so close to him. They had stayed up all night, neither expecting to survive the next day. He had held her, confessed how he had always felt about her. And when he kissed her, it was tender and sweet. It had filled Tifa with warmth and contentment.  _If this is the end, I can't think of a better way to go…_

But then, of course, they had survived. Stripped of that driving force, that need to protect his friends, Cloud had drifted. With nothing to distract him from dealing with his own memories, his guilt and his failures, he had closed himself off. Tifa was never able to reach him like that again. As hard as it was for her, she wanted him in her life, however she could have him. And so they had reached a sort of equilibrium in Seventh Heaven.

But now she wondered.  _Is this really the only way I can have him?_

An exhausted Cloud clomped down the stairs, leaving the kids in considerably better spirits. "Man, those guys are—"

He stopped. Tifa was sitting on the couch, staring through the television, which had some weird entertainment news show playing. "Tifa?"

She jerked as if he'd startled her. "Oh! Cloud. I—did you – are you hungry?"

Cloud tilted his head and put a hand on his hip, looking at her closely. "Tifa…are you feeling ok?"

Tifa forced a smile. "I'm fine. Why?"

"Well… we just ate before I went upstairs."

"Oh. I know, but... you're always hungry."

He continued to study her thoughtfully. "I'm good, thanks."

Afraid he could see her thoughts on her face, she jumped up and busied herself scrubbing a counter that didn't need cleaning. After a moment, he shrugged. "I'm going to work on my bike for a while."

Tifa's thoughts churned as she stared down at the counter. Was she wasting an opportunity? He had been so tender since he had brought her home. What if he was willing to open up now? What if he was getting better? "Cloud, wait," she blurted before she could change her mind.

He turned back to her, eyebrows raised. "What's up?"

"I just thought…we haven't talked in a while. You never told me about that last job you did." She sat down on the couch, expecting him to join her, but Cloud remained where he was.

"Oh, that. Nothing really to tell. I worked, I got paid." He shrugged.

"Oh. Well who were you working for?"

"Um, it was that singer, Aria."

"Aria? Cloud, that's amazing! Where did she even get your name?"

He shrugged again. "I don't know. I never asked."

"Oh." Tifa picked at a loose thread on the couch, trying to figure out how to bring up his television debut. She couldn't think of anything that sounded good, since she'd just feigned ignorance on who he was working for.

"Ok…well…I'm going to go get that work done now."

Tifa listened to his heavy footsteps on their way to the door, the door opening, closing, without turning around. She dropped her head on the back of the couch. "That went well," she muttered to herself.

She might have sat there longer lamenting their lack of communication skills if the phone hadn't interrupted her reverie. She hauled herself to her feet, allowing herself a slight limp now that no one was around to worry about her. She made it around the counter by the fifth ring, snatching it out of the cradle. She didn't recognize the number on the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Tifa. It's Barret." His voice sounded even gruffer than usual, and muffled.

"Barret? Where are you calling from? I can barely hear you."

"It's just a pay phone outside Wutai." There was a faint buzz on the line each time he spoke.

"Really? Those still exist?"

"Apparently," he said impatiently. "And I'm on my last quarter, so just listen, ok?"

Tifa eased herself into the chair behind the counter. "Ok, I'm listening."

"Wait. Is Spiky around?"

"No, he's outside."

"Good. I don't need him gettin' in my business. Here's the thing. I'm gonna have to go into hiding for a bit, so I need you to come up with some kind of excuse for Marlene. In case she wants to call me."

Tifa closed her eyes wearily. "You want me to lie to your daughter for you," she said flatly.

"Well no, not lie exactly. Jes…you know. Distract her or somethin'."

Tifa groaned. "Barret, please don't tell me you're still involved in that business with the mafia."

"No! I'm getting out. Er…I'm trying. I'm not manufacturing anymore, but they…well, they seem to think I owe them some money. A lot of money. And they're not really the patient kind, you know? I jes need some time to get it together, and then they'll leave us alone. Until then…well, jes be careful, awright? I didn't mean to get you all wrapped up in this, an' I mean to fix it. Tell Marlene –"

There was a soft click, and then silence.


	6. TV Star

 

Tifa was in her room, working on her second set of katas for the day, when Cloud walked down the hall. He stopped as he was passing her room.

"Hey!" Cloud sounded worried. "Are you sure you should be doing that already?"

Tifa looked over at him, continuing her exercises. "Yes, I'm sure. I've been doing it for weeks now. In fact, I think I'm ready to spar. You up for it?"

Now Cloud looked positively alarmed. "No! No way, Tifa. You're not healed enough yet."

"I'm fine, Cloud. I just want to get back to normal."

Cloud crossed his arms decisively. "Well, that's too bad. I refuse to spar with you."

Tifa shrugged nonchalantly. "That's fine. I'll just go out and find a different partner."

_Damn it! She's so stubborn, she'll actually do it, just to spite me._

Cloud really didn't want to do it. He was afraid he would hurt her, but it would be far worse if she found some other partner who wouldn't be careful with her at all. He rubbed his neck uneasily. "How about if we start with the pads?"

"Fine. For today." Tifa smiled smugly and led the way down to the large padded room they used for training. Cloud trailed behind her, scowling.

He strapped on the pads as she pulled on her leather gloves, reveling in the feeling she had been missing for far too long. And then she launched herself at him. Cloud barely got the pads up quickly enough to avoid a painful kick to the ribs. "Hey! What the—"

He never got the chance to finish his complaint. He needed to focus all of his attention on the pads or risk a painful evening. Tifa was full of fire. She was definitely pulling back with her injured leg, but she was still a force to be reckoned with. She had a lot of pent-up frustration to release. Sweat trickled down her back as her long, dark braid swung behind her.

Finally, exhausting her explosion of energy, she stopped, wiping the sweat from her forehead with her arm.

"Thanks, Cloud. Tomorrow, no pads."

Cloud stared after her, dumbfounded, as she headed to the shower.  _What was that all about?_

* * *

Although he was still angry with Barret, Cloud couldn't help worrying about him. It had been weeks since he'd heard anything from him. He had tried calling his cell several times already and hadn't been able to reach him. He didn't want to worry any of the others, so he kept it to himself as usual.

He was leaving yet another message when he heard Tifa's approaching footsteps. He guiltily hung up the phone as she came around the corner with a basket of laundry in her arms.

"Hey, you ready?" she asked.

"Ready for what?" Cloud tried to act casual, leaning back and sliding his phone into his pocket, hoping she wouldn't notice. She didn't. Or maybe he was being paranoid and she really wasn't that suspicious about seeing him on the phone.  _Jeez, why do I feel so guilty?_

Tifa set down the basket and put her hands on her hips. "Sparring. Remember?"

"Oh. Well I really should…uh…."

"Cloud! Come on, you said you would. Quit trying to come up with excuses."

Since he really didn't have a valid excuse, nor could he think up a convincing lie, he slid off the bar stool with a sigh. "Alright, fine. Let's go."

* * *

"Damn it, Cloud, would you knock it off?" Tifa demanded.

Cloud rubbed the back of his head and sat up. It was the third time that she had knocked him on his back in the last 5 minutes, so why was she yelling at  _him_? "Shouldn't that be my line?"

Tifa plopped down on the floor next to him and scowled. "Cloud, you're going easy on me. I'm trying to get back into fighting shape, and you pulling your punches won't help."

He stared at the ground, drawing endless circles with his finger.

"What is it?" she demanded.

Cloud chewed on his bottom lip, a nervous habit she hadn't seen from him in quite some time. He was wavering, but she could see the moment that the walls came back up. He refused to look at her. "You know I'm not that good at hand-to-hand. You kicked my ass last time we sparred. Why are you so shocked?"

Tifa crossed her arms. "You're not this bad, either. Come on, Cloud, don't shut me out. Just talk to me, please."

"I just…" Cloud raised his eyes slowly. The pain shimmering in those endless pools of blue took her breath away. She wanted nothing more than to kiss away his hurt. She reached up with her hand curled, gently stroking his cheek with the back of her fingers. His brow furrowed. She leaned forward slowly, giving him time to process it.

He didn't move to meet her, but his eyes were frozen on her lips. He knew he was running out of time to stop this, but…  _just a little longer._  Their noses brushed and his eyes drifted closed. He could smell her shampoo, her sweat, her unique scent that made her  _her_. She touched her lips gently to his, and a shock raced through his body like electricity.

He jerked back and jumped to his feet, putting much-needed space between them. "Whoa. No. We can't."

The rejection on her face was difficult to bear. "Oh. I'm sorry. I thought…"

"No, it's not…it's not you. It's me. I'm just…"

He was saved from his bumbling excuses by the little boy tearing into the training room. "Cloud! Cloud! You're on TV! Come on, hurry up, come see!" Denzel tugged impatiently on their hands.

Tifa reluctantly got to her feet and let him drag them into the living room. She wanted to protest, to finish their conversation and see what creative excuses he could come up with, but she knew Denzel would not be deterred. They arrived just in time to see a replay of the incriminating kiss. It was just as hard for Tifa to watch the second time. Cloud just stared at the TV with wide eyes.

"Whooooooa, Cloud! You were making out with Aria. With  _Aria_!" Denzel looked at him with worship in his eyes.

Tifa swallowed hard. "Now Denzel, don't exaggerate like that. It was just a kiss."

Cloud was silent. They watched as the tiny Cloud and tiny Aria made a beeline for the exit on the screen. The hosts of the show made jokes, speculating on where they could  _possibly_  be going after that heated display.

Tifa glanced over at Cloud. He looked like he was in shock. "Right, Cloud? It was just a kiss."

Cloud closed his eyes for a long moment and then turned to face her, his brow furrowed. "Tifa, I…"

Tifa took an unsteady step backwards. "I…I have to go start dinner." She turned and walked quickly toward the kitchen.

"Tifa," Cloud called after her. "Tifa!"

She ignored him and disappeared through the swinging door.

_Fuck!_ Cloud cursed himself. He'd known about the cameras, of course, but it had never even occurred to him that Tifa would see that.

Denzel was still talking, oblivious to the sudden tension in the room. "You have the coolest job  _ever_ , Cloud. When I grow up I'm gonna be strong just like you and then I can—"

"Denzel!" Cloud snapped. "Go to your room."

The little boy looked as if he'd been slapped. His eyes were as big as saucers. "What? What did I do?"

Cloud sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. "Nothing, buddy. Just go play in your room. You too, Marlene."

He turned off the TV as Denzel scampered over to the stairs, Marlene following slowly behind him. Marlene didn't understand what had happened, but she knew that Tifa and Cloud were upset about something. She trudged up the stairs, away from the oppressive atmosphere in the living room. She  _hated_  when they fought.

* * *

Tifa sat at the empty bar, nursing her drink. In general, she frowned upon people drinking alone. Especially alone in the dark, as she was now. But her mind had been spinning in circles all night, and now she was too tired to care.

The kids had been in bed for hours and Cloud had disappeared into his room after supper, so she assumed he was sleeping also. She stared blankly at the bottles lined up against the wall.

Her senses were usually so well tuned that she knew the instant someone was in the room, but now she just felt numb. She had no idea that she wasn't alone until Cloud slid onto the stool next to her. He didn't say anything. They sat there together in silence for a few minutes. He stared at her profile in the shaft of moonlight sneaking through the window.

He resisted the urge to reach out with his hand, knowing it wouldn't be welcome. "Tifa. It didn't mean anything."

Tifa didn't respond. She stared straight ahead.

"I swear, I would take it back if I could. But it was nothing. It was just—"

"Just sex?" Tifa's flat, clinical voice made Cloud wince.

"Well…yeah."

Tifa swallowed the last of her drink. "I never would have expected such a cliché from you, Cloud." She thumped her glass down on the bar and went to bed.

Cloud put his head in his arms on the bar.  _Brilliant, Strife._

The next day, Tifa acted as if nothing had happened. He approached her gingerly. "Um, Tifa? I have a delivery today. It's way out in—"

"Ok, bye," she chirped cheerfully.

He blinked and watched her bustle around behind the bar. She didn't care where he was going or when he'd be back? He stared for several seconds, trying to think of something to say. He came up with nothing. He was really not good at this kind of thing.

Later, as he sped along the highway, he had some time to think. He didn't do many deliveries anymore, but he had gotten an emergency call for one this morning and he had agreed. To be honest, he was glad for the chance to get away from the tension in the bar.

_Running away again?_

_I'm not running away! I'm going to deal with this. I just…need to figure out what to say first._

By the time he made it back home, it was late afternoon and he was determined to talk to her. He had half of a plan, but he doubted whether it would work anyway. She usually had an argument to the first thing he said and he got derailed from there. So he had a general idea of what he wanted to get across…and flowers never hurt, right? Didn't all girls like flowers? He had seen them growing wild in a field after he'd completed his delivery that afternoon and picked some on a whim. They looked a little worse for the wear after the trip home, but serviceable.

He held the flowers behind his back and pushed the swinging door open slightly. He peeked his head cautiously inside. Tifa was in full cooking mode, bustling around the kitchen. He came in the rest of the way, but Tifa spoke before he could even start. "Oh, Cloud, good. Could you run to the store and get some milk?" She began chopping something green on the cutting board.

"Um, sure. But…we should talk."

She kept her back turned and continued cutting. "About what?"

"About…you know. About what we saw on the TV."

She scraped the chopped vegetables into a bowl, more violently than was strictly necessary. "There's nothing to talk about. You're a grown man, and you can do what you want."

"Tifa—"

"But I really do need that milk, so I would appreciate if you could go now." She continued chopping, refusing to turn around.

Cloud stared at the back of her head helplessly. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to get from here to the conversation they needed to have. So he went to get the milk.

* * *

Cloud didn't get back with the milk before dinner. He didn't get back with the milk before the kids went to bed, either. Tifa reassured them as she tucked them in. "He probably just saw someone that needed help on the way to the store. You know, he probably gave them a ride home. Or helped clear out some monsters. He's always doing stuff like that."

The explanation was good enough for Denzel. Cloud was his hero. Of  _course_  he was doing something noble. He burrowed into the covers. Marlene was not so easily swayed.

"But why wouldn't he call? Why didn't he answer when you called?"

"Who knows?" Tifa shrugged, forcing a smile. "It could be a million things. Maybe he dropped it and broke it again while he was riding."

Marlene frowned. "Again? But he got that clip for it so it wouldn't happen anymore."

Sometimes, Tifa really wished the little girl weren't so smart. It was getting harder and harder to fool her as she grew up. "Well, something like that. I'm sure it's fine. I'll make sure to scold him as soon as he gets home, ok? And make him buy a new phone. Just go to sleep, Marlene. You'll see him in the morning."

Marlene settled herself into the pillows, but the suspicion never left her eyes. They remained pinned on Tifa as she turned out the light and left the room, until the door was closed softly behind her.

Tifa kept herself busy. She cleaned the bar area until everything sparkled and gleamed. Then she cleaned the kitchen, the bathrooms, and her bedroom. But mindless work wasn't going to cut it. There was too much time to think. She needed something more distracting. Didn't other people manage to waste hours in front of the TV?

She picked up the remote and flipped on the tube. Infomercials? No, she wasn't that desperate yet. But after flipping through all four channels, finding that they were all just as bad, she decided she was that desperate after all. After an hour of watching people gush over ridiculous products, her eyes started to glaze over until they finally drifted shut.

The next time she stirred, she was greeted by Mako-blue eyes. Then silky red hair. Then the kiss. Again. She threw the remote across the room, where it smashed against the wall. But now she actually had to get up to shut off the TV and get that image out of her face.

_What is the public's stupid obsession with celebrities?_   _Why do they have to keep showing that clip from the party? Yes, there were a lot of different cameras there, but do they really need to show it from every possible angle? Who cares who Aria was –_

She couldn't even finish the thought. She didn't want to put it in words, so of course her mind happily supplied the images. Grunting in frustration, she smacked the button on the TV. Getting her temper under control, she picked up the pieces of the remote. Then she had to get the broom to pick up the rest of the mess. She hadn't realized she'd thrown it so hard.

It was now the middle of the night and a there was a tiny sliver of hope that he had snuck in while she was sleeping. She debated whether to check his room, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to know for certain. What if she just assumed he was there? Then she could believe it until morning, when she would have to find out for sure. She laughed wryly at her own expense. She really wasn't good at self-deception.

So she checked, just to shatter that last sliver. His empty room mocked her. She dragged herself to bed.

* * *

"Tifa! Wake up. How come you didn't make breakfast yet?"

Tifa groggily lifted her thousand-pound head from the pillow. "What? Can't you guys make your own breakfast?" she mumbled.

"Well...maybe," Denzel hedged. "But you never let us."

_Oh. Right. Children._

"Mm. Ok. I'm up."

Tifa shuffled down the stairs and fumbled around in the kitchen. She couldn't remember the last time she hadn't woken up before the sunrise. Gaia, what was she  _doing_  last night?

Blearily, she slapped together some oatmeal. She felt like she was weighed down by sandbags. Marlene perched daintily on her chair as Tifa brought the oatmeal to the table.

"So? Did you give Cloud a good, long lecture when he came home last night?"

Tifa's eyes popped open and the sinking feeling in her stomach instantly returned. How could she have forgotten? In her defense, she probably hadn't slept more than 3 hours, but…

"Oh. Actually, I fell asleep. So we can lecture him together when he gets up. How does that sound?"

Marlene frowned. She didn't say anything as she picked at her oatmeal.

Tifa slouched against the counter and rubbed her face wearily. It was time to either confront him or really start to worry. She had no intention of waiting for him to drag his lazy ass out of bed, if he was even there. She trudged up the stairs and knocked on his door. There was no answer, so she opened it and stepped inside.

As she suspected, his bed was empty. It wasn't made, because Cloud never made his bed, but it was  _unmade_  in exactly the same way as the night before. Pressing her lips together, she sat down on his bed and dialed his number. She listened to the endless ringing for much longer than necessary, then finally hung up, adding another unanswered call to the dozen in her call history from the day before.

"He's not here?" Marlene's soft voice startled Tifa, and she dropped her phone.

"Oh! Marlene. You scared me."

Marlene put her hands on her hips, unconsciously imitating Tifa's pose when she scolded one of the kids. "Where is he?"

"I – I'm not sure, Sweetie. He's probably on a job or something," she stuttered. Even to her own ears she didn't sound convincing.

Marlene stomped over to his desk, picking up his notebook. It was the notebook where he recorded every job, every detail, without fail. Tifa winced. Marlene really was getting too sharp for her comfort.

Tifa was struggling to come up with another plausible excuse when the third member of the household poked his head in.

"Hey…Cloud's not here?" Denzel asked.

"No. He's not." Marlene said sharply. "But I know where he is."

Tifa looked up, surprised. "You do?"

"Yeah. He left us.  _Again_."

The hurt and betrayal on Denzel's face was almost too much to bear. "No. He said he wouldn't."

Tifa jumped up to reassure him. "Oh no, Honey, I'm sure that's not true."

But Marlene wasn't done. "I know you guys were fighting last night. You got mad at him, didn't you? You made him leave us again!"

Denzel's eyes widened. "What did you fight about?"

Tifa hesitated. "We…just…grown-up stuff."

Marlene scoffed, crossing her arms tightly, shooting a look at Denzel. "That's just a cheaty way of saying she doesn't want to tell us."

Denzel was busy processing everything. "But…he'll come back. He always comes back."

Tifa couldn't tell them what she feared. Between the two kids, they had lost so many parental figures. Too many times, the planet had torn away the ones who were supposed to be protecting them, leaving them vulnerable and alone. She didn't know if they could handle losing another. She didn't want to even think about what she herself could handle. So instead, she nodded in agreement with Denzel. "He always comes back."

* * *

An hour later, Yuffie walked through the door of Seventh Heaven, taking in the somber atmosphere. And as always, she couldn't stand it.

"Hey kiddos!"

The kids both perked up at her voice. "Yuffie!" They ran to her and hugged her legs.

"Guess what!" Yuffie chirped. "I've got a whole day off to spend with my favorite munchkins." She crouched down and whispered conspiratorially. " _After_  rocky road ice cream. Do you think Tifa will let us?"

Yuffie raised her eyes and her voice. "Hey Tifa. Don't you have some errands to run? I can keep an eye on the kids for a while." The three of them blinked up at her with innocent puppy dog expressions.

Tifa scratched her head. "Err.. yeah, actually. I do. Thanks, Yuffie."

Yuffie shooed the kids toward the kitchen, whispering loudly. "But don't get out the ice cream until  _after_  she leaves!"

She stood back up and Tifa surprised her with a tight squeeze. "Really. Thanks for coming."

Yuffie looked away. "Ah, don't sweat it, Teef. You know Cloud's a wanderer. It's just in his blood. He'll find his way back home."

Tifa nodded and ducked out the door. She didn't want Yuffie to read anything on her face. She didn't believe he would really desert them again after everything that happened, not over a tiny little disagreement. Which, in her mind, left only the possibility that he  _couldn't_  come home.

A red beast, looking like a cross between a lion and a wolf, sat patiently in the parking lot, flicking his tail. Tifa walked quickly to him.

"Nanaki. Can you pick up his scent?"

"Yes." Nanaki nodded somberly. "It is all around us here. Do you have any idea which direction? There are far too many to follow."

Tifa closed her eyes to think. "He was going to get milk. The closest store is… to the east."

Nanaki took off in a trot in that direction, following an invisible trail that no one else could sense. They had only gotten about halfway to the store when Nanaki stopped. "This is no good. The scent is too faint."

Tifa's brow furrowed. "What does that mean?"

"That means that Cloud did not go this way yesterday. It is too old. Let us go back and try a different trail."

"Ok." Tifa chewed on a fingernail as they walked back, a nervous habit she had broken long, long ago. "But why didn't he go this way?"

In his wise, slow voice, Nanaki pondered. "Are you certain he went to the nearest store?"

"Why wouldn't he?" Tifa asked.

"I do not know. I had hoped that you know Cloud better than I."

She chewed the nail down farther. "Wait! He took Fenrir. He likes to ride outside of town when he's frustrated or upset. So I bet he'd go to one of the stores on the outskirts of Edge."

"And he was frustrated or upset last night?"

Tifa just looked at him.

"I see. Then I will smell for his motorbike as well."

Once he had picked up the trail, Nanaki took off at a run, following it. Tifa ran as fast as she could on two legs, but she couldn't keep up with the beast, especially when her injured leg started aching again.

She lost sight of him when he ran into a thicket of trees off the road. She slowed to a walk when she reached the trees, peering anxiously through them. A storm was brewing and the afternoon sun was muted, casting dark shadows on everything. She stepped carefully into the trees. "Nanaki?" She couldn't see him anywhere.

Suddenly a howl rang through the darkened sky. Tifa started to run again, following the sound, ignoring the brambles and branches that tore at her skin and caught in her hair. Finally reaching a clearing, she found the animal. "Nanaki! What is it?"

He silenced his howl when Tifa reached him, stopping abruptly before she stepped in the large, soaked patch of dark ground. She knelt down, touching it with her fingers. She looked closely, but couldn't identify it in the dark. A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the liquid on her fingertips, betraying the red tinge. Grimly, Nanaki confirmed her suspicion. "It's his."

She swallowed hard. "Ok. Let's keep going." She stepped carefully around the puddle as the wind picked up. Large, fat drops landed on her head and her arms, quickly multiplying until she was thoroughly soaked. Between the sound of the wind and the rain hitting the leaves, she didn't hear the glass crunching under her feet, but she felt it. She bent down to get a closer look, picked up some shards and felt them. A sharp prick on her finger told her what it was.

She looked around for Nanaki, but it was now completely dark. "Nanaki? Where are you?"

"Over here." The somber voice came from the shadows to her left. She turned that direction just as another flash lit up the sky. A glimpse of metal was visible for a split second, and then it was gone.

Tifa stepped forward carefully until she reached the place she had seen the beast and the flash of metal. The wind was starting to howl, making it as difficult to hear as it was to see. She called out as loud as she could, but the wind sucked away her voice before it even reached her own ears. Deprived of three of her senses, and the fourth essentially useless at the moment, she felt around in the dark. She scraped her hand against a tree and then felt something slick and cold.  _Metal!_  She kept her fingers moving, feeling the rounded surface. She pulled them back with a hiss as she felt a deep cut slice across three of them. She felt a nudge against her hand and she reached out, comforted to know the wet animal was by her side, but not wanting to leave until she found out what they had discovered.

She reached out again, more carefully, and patted along the slick surface. Her hands were starting to get numb from the cold rain, and it was getting harder to tell what she was feeling, but she ignored the nudges she felt from the beast at her side. Then she felt the weight of two muddy paws on her shoulder.

Nanaki leaned right up to her ear so she could hear him over the noise of the storm. "Tifa. We should find shelter until this passes."

She shook her head stubbornly. "No!" she yelled, turning her head toward the animal. "What if we can't find this again? I don't want to lose this!"

"There is a cave not far from here. We will come back as soon as the storm abates. I know how to find this place."

Tifa was now shivering violently, and getting nowhere with the investigation from her fingers, so reluctantly she grabbed a handful of Nanaki's mane and let him lead them to a small cave. The entrance was slippery and she fell to her hands and knees in the mud. She crawled the remainder of the way under the low ceiling until they reached an area protected from the downpour.

She sat with her knees pulled against her chest, trying to preserve her warmth. It reminded her of the Northern Cave - the chill of the northern air, made worse by the dampness of the underground that had never seen the sun. She had spent the night curled up with Cloud. He had been radiating heat, as always, and had protected her from the chill that seeped into her bones. More than the heat of his body, she felt safe and cherished with his arms around her. And his voice – his words had wrapped around her core and imprinted themselves firmly in her heart.

_But I guess I misread that situation, too. Why did he say those things to me? Was he just hoping to get laid one last time, what he thought was his last night on Gaia? No. No, I don't believe that. If he had wanted to, he could have. And now, I can't get him to touch me no matter how hard I try. Apparently I'm the only one with that problem._

She dropped her head onto her knees, feeling the pain of rejection again. Wise and sensitive as always, Nanaki rested his head on her shoulder, not probing or questioning, just providing reassurance and affection. She replayed the scene in her mind, analyzing his expressions, his reactions. Why must he be such an enigma?

At length, Nanaki nudged her arm. "The storm is passing. Would you like to go back to where we were?"

Tifa lifted her head and nodded. "Yes. I need to find him."  _I need to understand him._

The beast led her directly back to the place where they had found the bloodstained ground. The sun was poking out from the clouds now and the distinctive black and gold bike was easily visible, sparkling with the remnants of the raindrops. Tifa gasped as the full destruction became apparent. The front end was completely smashed into an ancient tree. Glass from the windshield was scattered all around, but there was no life to be found. Gingerly, Tifa reached around the mangled metal and pushed the button to release the hidden compartments. They popped open. Every one was filled.

"He didn't take any of his swords." Tifa said quietly.

Nanaki was continuing to sniff around the scene of the accident, but he stopped to question, "Why would he go somewhere without a weapon?"

"He wouldn't," Tifa whispered.

Nanaki seemed to be sniffing the air in circles. Tifa swallowed hard. "Ok. Where does the trail go from here?"

Nanaki sat on his haunches and looked directly into her eyes. "It does not go anywhere, Tifa."

"So, what are you saying?" Tifa demanded. "Where did he go?"

Nanaki lowered his head, his ancient eyes filled with sorrow. "I believe he has returned to the LifeStream."

Tifa would have laughed if her heart weren't in her throat. "Nanaki, that's ridiculous. Cloud Strife does not just…die…from a motorcycle accident. Cloud could survive getting hit by a…a…train. No. No, that's impossible. He wandered off somewhere, or…"

Nanaki nodded thoughtfully. "It does seem unlikely, assuming that his helmet stayed on. Mako does not cross the blood-brain barrier, so his brain is vulnerable, but his skull is just as resilient as the rest of his body. With the addition of his helmet, there should not have been enough force to crush it."

Tifa sank to the ground, a dazed look in her eyes.

"Tifa? What is it? Did you think of something else?"

She stared blankly ahead, no longer seeing the forest in front of her. "He doesn't…wear…a helmet."

Nanaki lowered his head again, choosing to stay silent. Tifa would come to her own conclusions.

She felt a wash of guilt as she whispered, "I didn't… even… need milk."


	7. Found

The funeral was small and private. Cloud had a lot of fans in the area for defeating Bahumut in the town square, which everyone saw, and some for defeating Sephiroth, which very few saw. But he had always despised his fame. He hated being recognized by strangers. He preferred to speak only to his closest friends and those with whom he had business. Truthfully, the boldest who came to speak to him, to ask for autographs or pictures, ended up being rather put off by his stoic manner and obvious discomfort. He remained a hero mainly to those who admired him from afar, and those who knew him best.

Of course, his friends were convinced that they'd made a mistake when they received the phone call. Cloud Strife? Died in a motorcycle accident? Ridiculous. And one by one, they examined the place where he'd crashed. One by one, they made their arguments, listened to Nanaki's patient explanation, or Yuffie's slightly more erratic attempt to explain, and eventually agreed that there was no other logical conclusion.

No one asked Tifa. Even though she had been acting more or less normal since she had returned to the bar after discovering Fenrir, everyone was tiptoeing around her. They were careful not to mention his name in her presence, as if she would forget about him if she didn't hear it. They put on falsely cheerful tones and made worthless small talk when she was near, as if she would be happy as long as everyone else sounded happy. They helped out with the things she normally did, like cooking and taking care of the kids, as if she would stop thinking about him if she didn't have things to do.

As far as Tifa was concerned, they were all acting stupid.

Finally, she had to put a stop to it. The day before the funeral, she announced that she was going to reopen Seventh Heaven to the public. They simply couldn't afford to stay closed anymore, even though Cloud's overly generous last paycheck had allowed her to recuperate for several weeks more than expected.

There was a chorus of arguments from everyone.

Barret: "No way, Tifa. Spiky wouldn't want you to be workin' so hard and gettin' hurt again."

Yuffie: "Teef! You need time to get over all this.. stuff."

Cid: "Maybe you should jes take a vacation er somethin. You know, relax."

Reeve: "Are you certain you even want to reopen? Maybe you could find a different line of work. Start over."

Vincent: "It may not be wise to jump right back into things."

Reno: "You're going to reopen? Oh thank  _Gaia_. The place I've been forced to visit waters down  _everything_. AND they overcharge. I'll be back at my regular table the second it opens."

Rude: "Mm hmm."

Reno and Rude earned a small smile from Tifa, and glares from everyone else.

Tifa cleared her throat and stood up tall, commanding everyone's attention, just like the old days. "Look, I know you're all trying to be helpful. But I just… I need to move on with my life. He's not going to.." her voice wavered a bit "..come back…if I just wallow in misery. And I really appreciate everything you've all been doing to help, but I just need things to be  _normal_. The kids need a normal life. And we all need to adjust to life without…him."

It was the most she'd said in days and no one spoke for several seconds. It was Nanaki who broke the silence. "If that is what you think is best, Tifa, then you should do it." There were murmurs of general agreement from the others.

Tifa nodded resolutely. "I do. And after the funeral, we'll come back here and talk about the good times. It'll be the last time any of you get freebies, so you better enjoy them, because the next day we'll be open for business and I'll start charging for drinks."

And so this small motley crew gathered and had a traditional ceremony for the man who had touched all their lives in some significant way. The Turks were there, quiet and respectful of his closest friends. Barret held Marlene, who sobbed openly. Barret kept his sunglasses on, but a tear or two slipped past. Yuffie stood next to him and sniffed loudly every few seconds. Denzel held her hand, trying to be strong as the new man of the house, but he couldn't stop the tears and Yuffie pretended not to notice them. Shera comforted a distraught Cid, who didn't feel the need to hide anything. Vincent stood off to one side, showing as much expression as he ever did, which is essentially none. Nanaki stood with his tail tucked under, head ducked down.

And then there was Tifa, dry-eyed and collected. Since she'd given her little speech, she seemed to have slipped back into her old role, holding everyone together and doing what needed to be done. She herded everyone into Seventh Heaven after the ceremony and immediately started pouring drinks while the others started telling stories.

"…and then that Spiky-ass little punk tried to push  _me_  in the water, but I seen him comin', so I waited until the last second and then jumped outta the way and he fell right in with that big sword and all. He was all pissed 'cause he had to take it all apart and clean it up, complaining about salt water and rust and shit, and.."

Yuffie, who had been skeptically watching Barret tell the story, chose that moment to interrupt. "Uh Barret, I think you got your wires a little crossed. As I remember, it was  _Tifa_  who he tried to push and missed. We all know you're not quick enough to get out of the way if Cloudy was charging you."

The others looked up to Tifa for acknowledgement and she shrugged with a small grin. Everyone else laughed while Barret sulked. "Well… I was… distracting him, so it could just as well have been…" Cid slapped him on the back, laughing even harder at the evil glare he received. Barret pushed his chair back and went behind the bar to help himself to something stronger.

Everyone was still smiling when the front door opened to admit a beautiful redhead, flanked by a gruff-looking middle-aged man and a younger brunet man with a white streak of hair on one side. She looked around at the people gathered at the tables, and then her eyes landed on Tifa, whose smile had frozen on her face. Since Tifa was the only person standing, the redhead approached her.

"Hello ma'am. I'm looking for Cloud Strife."

Nobody moved. Nobody breathed. It was like a room full of statues, excluding the redhead with the polite smile, who was looking from face to face. Tifa was the first to speak and it was so soft, it could barely be heard. "He's…not here anymore."

"Oh." The redhead smiled sweetly. "Well do you know where I could reach him? He's not answering my phone calls and I'm in need of his skills."

Barret chose that moment to stand up from where he'd been digging under the bar, triumphantly holding up a bottle, totally oblivious to the situation that had unfolded around him. "Ah ha! Look what I found! It's—Hey! You're that singer! That uh… Aria, right?"

She turned her smile to the big black man hurrying toward her. Her gaze lingered for a moment on his metal hand and then snapped back to his face. "Yes, I am."

"Aww my daughter loves you! Could you jes like.. take a picture with her? She's jes back – OW!"

He turned to glare at Cid, who had smacked him in the back of his head, hard enough to make his earrings jingle against each other. "What was that for?"

Cid jammed a thumb in the direction of the kitchen, where the door was still swinging from Tifa's hasty exit.

Aria cleared her throat. "I'm so sorry, it seems like we've come at a bad time. Can you just tell me where I can find Cloud?" She turned to the eyes she could feel burning a hole in her skull.

"Nowhere," Yuffie growled. For a second, she could swear she saw a ghost of a smile on the singer's younger companion, but it was gone too quickly to be sure. Yuffie spun on her heel and chased after Tifa.

* * *

Tifa dried and put away the last glass before trudging up the stairs to her waiting bed.

It was day 93 post-Cloud.

93 days since Denzel had lost his spark.

93 days since Marlene had looked at her without accusation in her eyes.

As always, she was doing her best to hold things together for their "family", but it seemed they could no longer make it work without that missing piece.

For the 93rd time, she let her mask drop and let the heaviness pull her under.

The phone rang at 3 AM. Tifa pulled herself up through all those layers of unconsciousness. She fumbled for the incessantly ringing phone and brought it to her face. "'Lo?"

"Uh, Tifa?"

Tifa sat up. "Barret? What's wrong?" Because no one called at 3 AM unless something was really wrong.

"I uh.. I think you need to come to Wutai."

"Ok. Can it wait until morning? I need to get the kids packed and—"

"No! No. You can't bring the kids. Jes you."

Tifa sighed. "Barret, I can't just take off at the drop of a hat. I have responsibilities here. I have—"

"Tifa!" he interrupted. "I found him."

Tifa blinked, trying to make sense of his words. "Him?"

"Cloud. I found Cloud."

* * *

Yuffie was not a morning person. She was also not a middle-of-the-night person, unless she happened to still be awake. But she wasn't awake. She yawned loudly outside the door of Seventh Heaven. She really had matured. She had been working part-time at the bar, helping Tifa on weekends. The money was great, and it was really like a non-stop party for Yuffie on those busy nights, but now Tifa wanted her to do it all by herself?  _And_  take care of the kids? Who did she think she  _was_?

Tifa pulled open the door before Yuffie even got to it. She grabbed Yuffie's hand and shoved several items in it. "Here. Keys, instructions, and call me when the kids wake up."

Without waiting for questions, she took off at a run and untied her gold chocobo from the post. She didn't do much riding anymore, now that they lived in Edge, but racing chocobos wasn't something you ever got out of your blood. She jumped on his back and took off before Yuffie could even open her mouth.

"Hey, wait! Teef! How long?" But it was too late. She grumbled under her breath. "Urgh. You better make this up to me."

Barret paced the floor nervously while he waited. Even though he expected it, he was still startled when she burst through the front door. "Where is he?" she demanded.

Barret held his hand up. "He's back there, but let me—"

She pushed past him, opening the door.

"Tifa, wait!" She stopped in the doorway, eyes wide, hands over her mouth. It was too late to prepare her.

She stepped cautiously up to the bed and sank to her knees. He was so still and pale. It was rare, but there were some souls that never returned to the LifeStream. If ever there was a body expected to have a rare reaction, it was Cloud Strife. But she put her hand to his chest, and felt the slight movement of his breath.

She released her own shaky breath and gently touched his face. "Barret…what's wrong with him?"

"Well, see, we need to talk about that. I was—"

Eyelids so pale they were almost translucent fluttered, and then she saw that brilliant blue she had never expected to see again. They were different though. Flat, somehow, as they settled on her. She picked up his limp hand.

"Cloud?"

His expression didn't change, except for a slow blink. "You're not real."

She squeezed his hand. "I  _am_  real. It's me, Tifa!"

He closed his eyes again. "That's what you always say."

"What? Cloud! Hey, talk to me! Cloud?" She shook him gently, but there was no response.

She stood up and faced Barret, who hadn't moved from the doorway. That fierce determination was back in her eyes as she pushed him back out the door. She closed the door behind them and crossed her arms. "Tell me everything."

"I've been trying, you jes wouldn't…" He sighed. It was no use arguing with Tifa when she had that look on her face.

He sat down on the lumpy couch. "Awright, awright. I was walking along and I tripped over this junkie. Err, I thought it was a junkie. He wasn't movin', so I jes tried to move him outta the way, but then his hood fell off, and he opened his eyes, and they were that creepy blue. An' it was dark so I couldn't see much else, and I was gonna leave him, but then he said something. It was mostly mumblin' so I couldn't understand most, but he said 'Tifa' and.." he shrugged as if the rest should be obvious.

Tifa stared at him stonily. There were so many problems with his story that she almost didn't know where to start. "So. You were just  _walking along_ …where?"

"It was.. well, it was the back yard."

"Uh huh. So you found someone passed out in your back yard, and you just tried to shove him out of the way."

Barret shrugged, looking sheepish.

"Alright. So putting that aside, you didn't even think to check if it might be someone you knew? They were in your  _yard_."

"You don't know what it's like in this city, Tifa! They're all over the place. You jes gotta step over 'em."

She crossed her arms. "I see. And then you see he has Mako eyes, which makes it damn near impossible to be affected by a substance even once, much less often enough to get addicted, and you  _still_  assume he's a junkie? You knew Cloud! He never once in his life got drunk, and not for lack of trying."

"That's what I'm tryin' to tell you. Where do you think he's been all this time? What would keep him from comin' home? He  _is_."

"Is  _what_? You're not making any sense!"

Barret stood up, taking her hands in his. "He's a drug addict, Teef."

A stubborn glare settled on her face as she pulled her hands away. "I don't believe you."

Barret sighed heavily. "I'll show you. Come on."

Tifa followed him back into the bedroom. He picked up Cloud's left arm and flipped it over. She stared at it blankly. "What?"

"They're needle marks, Tifa. A lot of 'em."

Tifa scowled. "Then someone else did it to him. Cloud is terrified of needles. He couldn't do it."

Barret looked at her with pity. "People…find ways to get over things if they want something bad enough."

Tifa threw her hands up in the air.  "Barret, this is the dumbest theory I ever heard! He leaves to go to the store, crashes, leaves everything behind and becomes a drug addict? Come  _on_! I don't see how you can get from point A to point B."

"I don't know  _how_  it happened, Tifa! I'm just telling you what I see."

She shook her head, glowering with fierce determination. "There's some other explanation. When he wakes up, we'll get it."

* * *

"Are you serious?" Yuffie exclaimed. "Cloudy's  _alive_? That's amazing! When are you guys gonna be back?" Tifa pulled the phone away from her ear to spare it the volume of Yuffie's excitement.

"Well it's not…it's complicated."

But Yuffie wasn't listening anymore. "I'm gonna throw the biggest 'Welcome Home' party ever! Jeez, I've gotta call everyone and order some—"

"Yuffie! Would you shut up for a minute?" She took a breath. "I don't know if…when we can come home. He's really sick."

The young ninja dismissed her worries. "Pshhh. He'll be fine. Cloudy's like superman. He's probably just faking so you'll like take care of him and stuff. Probably hoping he'll get some Naughty Nurse action—"

Yuffie's insensitivity really pushed Tifa's limits sometimes. She wished she were there, just for a second, so she could smack her as hard as she deserved. "Shut up, shut up,  _shut up_! Just stop talking, Yuffie! I swear to Gaia, you can be so immature sometimes, I can't believe you're actually an adult. He is  _not_  faking, and he's  _not_  fine! I don't even know if he's ever going to…"

Shocked into silence by Tifa's outburst, Yuffie had absolutely nothing to say for once. She didn't even take offense to the insult. Was Tifa actually crying? She couldn't be sure, but her sudden silence was unexpected.

When she spoke again, her voice was as steady as always. "He's not fit to travel right now. I'm going to stay here for a few more days. Please, please don't say anything to the kids. It's better that they don't even get their hopes up, in case…" She took another deep breath. "I'll call back tonight and talk to the kids."

After hanging up the phone, she composed herself and went back into the bedroom where Barret stood watching the shriveled form on the bed. It still hurt to look at him. The rings under his eyes were so dark, his cheekbones so pronounced, she almost couldn't blame Barret for not recognizing him. His skin had taken on a sickly sheen. Sweat poured off of him; the sheets underneath him were dark and wet. She touched the damp washcloth to his head again and tried to wipe away the tortured look on his face.

"Cloud," she whispered. "Where are you?"

* * *

[3 months ago]

He was back there again – the place of his nightmares.

He felt the cold metal table against his back, felt the familiar metal cuffs at his wrists and ankles. Needles, so many needles, and endless pain, from the outside and the inside. Hojo's cold hands, cold face, indifferent to his pleas. Cutting and poking and writing on his stupid clipboard.

_You wanted to be strong, didn't you? You loathed your weakness. You wanted to impress her. This is how you were made strong. Wasn't it worth it? Only four years of your life - those useless, awkward teenage years. And now? Is she impressed? Are you happy? It's everything you ever wanted._

There was the panic, that primal fear where he could only react. His mind could only scream in static. No words, no thoughts possible, just the driving need to get away at all costs. A need that was always, always denied.

And then he was no longer the one on the table. He was watching the boy on the table, a boy with black hair, screaming and writhing, through a green liquid haze. He watched helplessly, pounded uselessly on the rounded glass.

Hojo appeared on the other side of the glass, leering, taunting him. "Those hallucinations are a bitch, huh?" Hojo's face, Hojo's mouth, but not Hojo's voice.

Something wasn't right. He struggled to focus on the face. Thick brown hair sprouted from Hojo's head. His glasses disappeared and his wrinkles melted, his face morphing into a much younger man. A man with a single white streak of hair.

"You," he croaked. "I know you." Cloud's mind felt sluggish.  _What was it? Mark? Matt?_ "Mack."

"Well, give the man a prize," he drawled. "So glad you're finally with me. As much fun as it was to watch whatever miserable hallucinations you've been having, the repetitive screaming gets dull after a while."

Cloud struggled to sit up, but only managed to raise his head a few inches. "What's.. what's wrong with me?"

"Ah, that would be the effect of the tranquilizers...combined with a little cocktail of my own making. Of course, I had to pop you with  _three_  tranquilizers before you even started to swerve, so I guess they'll take a little longer to wear off. And those are only the ones that hit you. You drive way too fast on that thing, you know. Someday you're going to smash it into a tree, Strife." For some reason, the man thought this was hilarious and laughed maniacally.

Cloud looked around as much as he was able with the limited movement he had with his head. He was lying on the cold floor of some kind of cage. The bottom of the cage stopped about halfway down his captor's thigh, so it was above the floor. To his relief, there were no straps or chains or restraints in sight. It wasn't Hojo's lab. The bars of the cage could probably hold normal humans, but it wasn't made to hold someone like him. So he just had to wait for the effects to wear off. He'd be able to break out once he had his strength back.

Now that he had a plan, he relaxed a bit. Time to get the villain monologuing. Cloud knew his type. They liked nothing better than to gloat over their brilliant plan. So he started with an open-ended question: "Why are you doing this?"

The man smirked. "Oh, I have my reasons."

Damn. That wasn't going to work. He eyed at the man shrewdly. "They'd better be damn good ones. Not many people are stupid enough to mess with an ex-SOLDIER."

He didn't get the reaction he expected. Mack leaned back in his chair and smiled. "Oh, I know exactly what you are, Strife. I knew it the second one of my boys tells me he can't get his hands on Barret's friend because she's being protected by some glowy-eyed FREAK!" He shrugged, letting his voice drop back to normal. "I figured if I got Aria to hire you, you would be out of the way for a few days and it would give those boys time to clean up their mess."

Cloud discreetly wiggled his toes and fingers. The drug effects were wearing off, but he needed more time. "What could have possibly gone wrong?" he asked, managing to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

Mack sighed, dropping his head back. "Everything."

Cloud kept his eerie blue eyes locked on his captor. "Like what?"

Now that he was warming up, Mack seemed thrilled to have an attentive audience. "Well, first the girl turns out to be some kind of kung-fu warrior, so she didn't even  _need_  a protector. And once they actually get her, she won't talk for anything." He leaned forward as if imparting a secret. "And I do mean  _anything_ , Strife."

Cloud clenched his teeth and forced the rest of his muscles to relax, to not betray his ability to move. Not yet.

Mack was studying him like an insect. He didn't miss the subtle reaction in Cloud's face. "Oh, I see. You really care about this girl, don't you? In fact, I'd say you  _love_  her."

Cloud's only response was to look away.

"Hm. Interesting. Then maybe you'll understand how I felt when this smug little  _asshole_  walks through the door and Aria can't stop drooling over him!" He had risen to his feet, shouting by the last few words. He paced restlessly in front of the cage. Cloud followed him with his eyes.

"Aria was mine, Strife. I almost had her until you walked in with your ridiculously huge sword and your freaky glowy eyes. You practically molested her in the middle of a red carpet event and she doesn't even get mad! And then! And then she sends us home for the night after the party, and I know what she's thinking. No way I'm gonna let them stay in the suite alone all night. I figure if I scare her a little bit, they'll call us back in. Her safety's supposed to be a priority, right? Any decent bodyguard would've reported it to her primary guards. But noooo, not Strife. He doesn't  _need_  any backup. He's only thinking about his  _dick_!"

Cloud flinched at that, and finally, Mack stopped his ranting. He approached the cage slowly and knelt down, eye level with Cloud. He spoke slowly, so he didn't miss a single word. "So when the boys called to say the girl won't talk…I told them to do whatever they had to do. To her  _or_  the little one."

Cloud thought he had come a long way since he was 16. He'd learned how to fight his emotions, shove them back down, to not  _react_  until he decided to. But there was no deciding. He had no idea what he was going to do until his arm shot between the bars and grabbed Mack by the throat.

It was a mistake. Mack was startled, but still easily peeled off Cloud's fingers and held him by the wrist. He chuckled darkly. "That's wearing off even faster than they said it would. That Mako sure is something, ain't it? I guess we need to increase the dosage."

Cloud's eyes widened and he frantically struggled to pull his arm back in, but Mack might as well have been holding a toddler's wrist. He paid no attention to his prisoner's struggles as he picked up a syringe from a table behind him. It contained some kind of cloudy yellow formula that swirled like bile in a tube. He held the syringe between his teeth while he tied a tourniquet around Cloud's bicep, ignoring his feeble attempts to pull away.

Mack took the syringe from between his teeth and examined his prisoner with amusement. "Oh my. What is this? Is the mighty SOLDIER afraid of  _needles_?" He laughed out loud at the raw panic in Cloud's eyes and stabbed it into his arm.

* * *

He was 16 again, a lowly infantryman, immobilized by straps on the table. His chest was in agony, and he couldn't understand why the man in the white coat was not helping him. "Oh my, such soft white skin. So translucent. You don't even have to  _look_  for a vein! We'll have to let the new intern practice on you."

He was 17. The hole in his chest had healed, but he had lost any hope of being let go. He had learned that Dr. Hojo enjoyed it when he reacted, when he showed fear or pain. So he held it all in. He learned not only to hide his emotions, but to dull them for himself. It kept his sessions with the good doctor as short as possible.

He was 18. The leather straps had long since been replaced with metal bands. He was much too strong for leather by now. Not that it mattered. He didn't even try anymore. He just watched the intern approaching, watching for the telltale gleam of the needle in her hand. Anything else they did to him, he was fine. But the syringes, with all their different colored fluids, were the ones he always dreaded. They burned him from the inside out. But it was just the scalpel today. He let out a sigh of relief and relaxed on the table.

He was 19. Listlessly, he watched Zack through his green haze, scratching on the side of his own Mako immersion tank. He had been doing it for weeks now, and Cloud had no idea why. It was…letters? They were backwards, but he thought they were letters.  _Do I…know how to read? Hojo doesn't teach. How do I know they're letters?_  It was too much effort to think. It had been getting more and more hazy lately. And he was so tired…

* * *

He had spent more time in his dreams and hallucinations than the real world. But it seemed that Mack got bored occasionally, and let him come down enough to give him some entertainment.

It was during one of those "entertainment" sessions that Cloud first realized that he wasn't dreading that clouded syringe anymore. He scratched at his arm. "Hey Mack," he slurred. "Why haven't you killed me yet?" It wasn't that he wanted to die; it was just a matter of curiosity. Surely he didn't enjoy Cloud's company  _that_  much. He scratched his head.

His tormentor gave him a toothy smile. "Because death is far too good for you, Strife."

Still, he only felt a dulled curiosity. "Why? 'Cause of money? 'Cause of Aria?" He couldn't seem to get rid of the itch on his head. He scratched harder.

The smile dropped from his face. "That does seem a little extreme, doesn't it? No, Strife. Your sins are far more grievous than that."

Mack leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers under his chin. "Let me take you back to a little house in Junon. A house with three hard-working men, employees of a certain entrepreneur," he gestured to himself, in full drama mode now, "who were researching, simply trying to understand why business had been down."

Cloud snorted. "You make it sound like they were reading reports, not torturing an innocent woman and child." He recognized his old friend, the burning current of anger, but paid him little attention as his nails drew blood from his scalp where he scratched.

Mack leaned forward to stare straight into Cloud's eyes, ignoring the unsolicited commentary. "Do you remember? Those three men that you slaughtered without a  _thought_  after barging into their home?"

"Oh believe me, I thought about it plenty," Cloud muttered darkly.

"How do you think it felt, " Mack continued, eyes burning with rage, "when I returned to help clean up the mess my men had made, only to find my brother and my two closest friends dead on the floor?"

Cloud's whole body was beginning to itch, but anywhere he scratched left behind a scorched burning, worse than the itch.

Mack was getting even more worked up, his face reddening. "And then to see those distinct slashes on their bodies? The kind that could only be made by a very unique sword? A sword that I had last seen on  _your_  back as I watched you walk out that door with  _Aria's scent_  all over you." His teeth were gritted, his hands fisted.

But Cloud had completely lost interest in the story by this time. His whole body itched and burned in turn. He had the chills and couldn't seem to stop his shaking. "Oh. So…when are you going to give me my next dose?"

Mack's hands relaxed. A slow smile spread across his face. "I'm not, Strife."

* * *

It was a lie, of course. Cloud was at the bars in a second when the door opened later that day, watching anxiously as Mack came in with the syringe. He held out his arm without hesitation, shaking violently as Mack tied the tourniquet and slid the needle into the vein with much-practiced efficiency.

Cloud watched the liquid as it was pushed out of the tube. The shaking was starting to subside, but… "It looks different."

Mack pulled the needle out. "Yes. Slightly. It's time for part 2."

The itching and the burning was receding and he breathed easier. "Part 2?"

"Yes. Part 2. Revenge is a dish best served cold, you know."

He fell back against the wall. "Wha…what's happening?" This was new.

"Oh, did you think I only wanted to hurt _you_ , Strife? Oh, no. I want to see you hurt the ones you care about most. And do you know why you will? Because no matter what they've done to your body,  _your mind is weak_."

His limbs grew heavy, and then his eyelids, and then all was dark.


	8. Addict

[Present day]

"What's wrong with him?" Tifa cried, trying vainly to calm Cloud's thrashing.

"Some kind of hallucination," Barret muttered.

In the midst of the thrashing, he was scratching his skin, his arms, his chest, his face, anything he could reach, gouging with short fingernails. He was drawing blood, collecting it under the nails. Tifa grabbed an arm and tried to hold it down, trying to protect him from himself. He jerked against her, hard enough to shove her backwards and then went back to scratching.

Barret was staring at him with intense concentration. "This reaction—it's so much worse than usual."

It was tearing Tifa apart to watch him doing this to himself, and to be able to do nothing to help him. "Cloud," she begged. "Please, stop it! Please!"

To the surprise of both witnesses, he did. Cloud's arms trembled a bit and his fingers relaxed. His head sunk back into the pillow and his breathing eased.

"Did he…can he hear me?"

Barret shook his head. "No, Tifa, he can't hear you. The hallucination just ended."

Her eyebrows scrunched together. "Just a coincidence?"

"Yeah." He shrugged, wishing he could tell her different, but he'd seen far too many cases to give her false hope. "I'm sorry. He's just too far gone in his own mind."

"Oh." Her shoulders drooped. She should have known she couldn't do anything to help.

"Tifa," Barret spoke softly. "Why don't you go get some rest? I'll watch him for a while, then we can trade off when you wake up."

"Ok, sure." Her tone was dejected. She touched his cheek gently, wincing at the new grooves now etched in them. "I'll be back soon," she whispered.

* * *

Barret held the bucket and supported the scrawny man shaking on the bed as he retched. "Take it easy, Spiky, it'll be over soon." He was overwhelmed with guilt and it was multiplied when Tifa was in the room, her anguish layered on top of Cloud's discomfort. He eased Cloud back onto the pillow when he finally stopped, and replaced the cool rag on his head. "You'll get through this, awright?"

Although he had been responding to his body's base reactions, Cloud hadn't shown any real signs of coherence since his brief comments to Tifa. So when he opened his eyes and fixed his piercing gaze on Barret, he wasn't sure if he was actually seeing him. A faint, weak sound drifted from the blond's mouth. "Bare.."

Barret leaned closer. "Spiky? You say something? What is it?"

"Need…some."

"Need some what? Water?"

Cloud grimaced painfully. "It hurts so much. I just need a little…Bare…"

"Need what?"

He reached up with a shaky arm and grasped Barret's collar. "You know what."

Barret backed away, shaking his head. "No way, Spiky. Nuh uh. You don't need that."

Cloud convulsed once on the bed, an agonizing sound escaping his lips as he fisted the sheets on both sides of his body. "I know…what you did…I know…you can…"

Barret knelt down next to the bed and spoke quietly but urgently. "I got out of that, Cloud. I don't have contacts anymore. I don't…"

Cloud was shaking again and scratching at his tender skin, re-opening wounds that had just begun to close. "Bare…I know. If you don't…" He rolled to the side and Barret was barely quick enough to grab the bucket before the heaving started again. When he could catch a breath, Cloud looked up with pleading eyes. "Please. Help me."

He rolled back onto the bed, coughing, and Barret stood up slowly. He walked carefully to the desk, opened the drawer, and fingered one of the packets. It had been on Cloud's body when he discovered him in the back yard, and Barret had been horrified to recognize his distinctive brand, which had been known to have some wicked effects. He was more than a little familiar with the withdrawal symptoms. There was a reason he had tried to push past the man he found in his back yard. He wasn't the first to come to Barret, begging for help.

He looked at the suffering man on the bed, then back at the packet. He could help him. Just a little. He needed to dry out, but maybe it should be a little more gradual.

Barret shook his head and dropped the packet back in the drawer. He couldn't give in to an addict. Then again, he'd never seen anyone react so severely. He rubbed the back of his neck, wavering between his choices. He'd been responsible for putting that out on the street, so he felt partially responsible for his friend's condition.  What should he do?

* * *

Tifa was jerked to consciousness by unearthly screaming. She sprang to her feet from the couch and sprinted into the bedroom. Cloud was convulsing on the bed, making a horrible choking sound. "Oh gods, Cloud!"

As she grabbed his hand, his muscles locked in full seizure, arching his body up off the bed. He felt like solid rock, immovable. Terrified, she looked up at Barret, who was frozen by the desk, looking nearly as pale as the man on the bed.

"What did you do to him?" she accused.

"Nothin! I didn't touch him!" His eyes were wide in denial. "He jes started doin' that—"

Cloud's body flopped back onto the bed, limp. Tifa's attention turned back to him.

"Cloud! Cloud, can you hear me?" She shook his shoulders gently.

There was no response save for his labored breathing. An ominous sounding rattle accompanied each inhalation. She let out a shuddered breath, trying hard to keep her emotions in check. She looked up at Barret, who hadn't moved from his position at the desk. "Barret, could you make some coffee? I think this could be a long night."

"Uh.. well, I actually don't have any," he said, sounding embarrassed. "But I'll go get some. You jes stay here with him." Barret slipped out of the room, relieved to have an excuse to get away.

Once they were alone, she folded Cloud's hand between both of hers and brought it to her lips. "Please don't take him away from me. I can't do it again. I can't," she whispered, pleading to whatever god would listen.

When he returned with a mug from the downtown coffee shop, Barret found Tifa wedged next to Cloud on the tiny bed, her arms and head resting on his chest, fast asleep. Her dark hair was spread out, covering most of his upper body like a downy fur.

Barret shook Tifa's shoulder gently. Her eyelids fluttered and slowly rose. "Hmm?"

"Tifa. We need to talk," Barret said in an urgent whisper.

She lifted her head and looked back at Cloud. He seemed to be breathing easier now, and resting more peacefully. "Just for a minute," she murmured.

Barret held out his hand and she took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet. He signaled for her to follow him out of the bedroom. When they reached the living room, he handed her the coffee and closed the bedroom door.

Tifa sipped the lukewarm beverage. Whatever Barret had been doing had given it enough time to cool down significantly. He had clearly not been in any rush to get back. "What is it?"

Barret rubbed his metal arm with his hand, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else at that moment. "Well, I talked to Yuffie. She says she can't keep up with the bar and the kids and everything herself."

Tifa's hand tightened around the cup as she glanced reflexively at the bedroom door. "Damn it, Yuffie, you can't handle real life for two days?" she muttered.

Barret rubbed his head wearily. "But I know you don't want to leave yet, so I'm going back to Edge to help out. You can stay here with Spiky until…" he trailed off and Tifa gave him a sharp look. "Until he wakes up," Barret added hastily. He scuffed his boot on the ground and avoided eye contact. "And…I talked to Nanaki. I don't know how he's going to react to the…withdrawal…with his S-cells and all the Mako poisoning he's had, plus we don't know exactly what he took. It's probably more than one substance, or else the Mako in his cells are makin' him react so bad, and Nanaki…well, you know."

Tifa nodded. Bugenhagen had an extensive library relating to Mako experimentation on humans, and Nanaki had become quite the expert on the subject. Documentation on the Jenova cells was sparse, but he had studied everything he could find on those, too. If anyone knew how to get Cloud through this, Nanaki would.

"So, is he coming?" Tifa asked hopefully.

"Uh, not yet. He says he's working on some kind of synthetic materia that will keep the S-cells from…uhm...killing all the other cells to harvest any remaining substances." He said this last part in a rush, as if Tifa might miss it if he spoke fast enough.

She didn't. She sprang forward and grabbed his shirt desperately with her free hand. " _What_? Barret, what does that mean?"

Barret took her hand and removed it, squeezing it gently. "Tifa…it's killing him. Nanaki thinks he might not even wake up again after that last seizure. I'm… so sorry," he mumbled.

Tifa pushed him away with a glare. "Save your sorries. He's still alive and he's  _going_  to make it." She turned away from him, remembering Denzel's words. "He always comes back," she said under her breath.

* * *

[4 weeks later]

"I think a bit of sun will do you good, Cloud," Tifa said cheerfully as she pushed the wheelchair down the makeshift ramp she had added over the front steps. "I know you hate being cooped up for so long. I do too. But it's springtime in Wutai and there's no reason we have to stay inside, right?"

She garnered a few strange looks as she strolled along, chattering to her vegetative patient, but she didn't care. Her indomitable spirit insisted that if she just acted like things were normal, it would happen. It reminded her of their time in Mideel, after he had fallen in the LifeStream and suffered his second wicked bout of Mako poisoning. She had stayed with him then, too, even though the doctor had told her flat out that it was unlikely he would survive.

She kept an eye out for the shadier elements of the city. It was just as Barret had warned her; there were addicts passed out in alleys everywhere she turned. Wutai was really in bad shape. But there was a park that was not far from the house and she took him there every day, giving commentary on the changes that were taking place with the plants and the birds. Every day, she saw the same man in sunglasses, sitting on the bench, feeding the birds. He looked younger than she would have expected for a chronic birdfeeder, with thick brown hair and a single, peculiar white streak. She smiled and said hello every day as they strolled past, and every day the man gave a silent nod.

It had been about 2 weeks since she'd started this routine and Cloud had given no indication of awareness since before Barret had left, but Tifa hadn't even begun to lose hope. Cloud had been lost in the disarray of his mind so many times; she was sure she could draw him out again.

After they arrived home, she started the bathwater and returned to get him. At first, she had felt strange undressing and bathing him, but it was really no different than caring for a child. If he had been the size he was on the day he drove away on Fenrir, carrying him would have been a struggle, but he'd lost so much weight that it was little effort for her now. She lowered him gently into the warm water and continued chattering about making his favorite meal that evening. She told him about her conversations with Denzel and Marlene each night, because she knew he would want to keep up with their lives just as much as she did.

She had given in and told the kids what was going on when Barret went back to Edge, but warned them that it might mean nothing, that he might never come back. With the endless optimism of children, they had told her they would wait as long as it took. In their minds, there was no  _if_ , only  _when_ , and they were not daunted, night after night, as Tifa told them nothing had changed. With only the possibility of Cloud returning, Marlene seemed to have forgiven her and Denzel had regained some of his spunk.

She rubbed the shampoo into his hair, thinking that this was really the only time she got to touch it as much as she wanted. She picked up the pitcher and poured warm water over his head. He closed his eyes against the soapy water as always – a reflex, nothing more, but something about his expression was so stubbornly Cloud, that it always made her smile.

When she had finished rinsing his hair, she pushed the long strands out of his face and froze. He was looking directly into her eyes, focusing as if he could actually see her. "Cloud?" she said hopefully. And then it was gone again, his gaze unfocused and unseeing. She sighed and pulled out the drain plug.  _Just wishful thinking_.

Another week passed with no change, until the afternoon Tifa heard a distinctive scratching on the door. Exhilarated, she skipped to the door and let Nanaki inside. He carried a leather pouch around his neck, which he indicated that Tifa should remove as soon as the door was closed behind him.

Tifa untied the knot at the back of his neck and lifted off the pouch, dumping the contents into her hand. It was a beautiful, golden colored materia stone with hard angled edges. She rolled it around delicately in her palm. "What is it supposed to do?"

Nanaki shook his body, releasing the layers of dirt from travel.  "It should cause a chemical reaction which will neutralize any of the remaining drug in his cells. If the S-cells are as smart as I believe them to be, they should sense that it no longer exists and stop attacking Cloud's other cells."

Tifa nodded. "Sounds like it should work. Can we use it now?"

Nanaki nodded solemnly. "Certainly."

The red beast followed her to the back bedroom, where Cloud sat staring at the blank wall from his wheelchair. Nanaki stopped abruptly when he saw him.

Tifa smiled sadly. "I know, he looks terrible. He will eat and drink what I feed him. He has his motor functions and his body responds to stimuli, but…it's like he's just not in there." She shrugged, brightening her smile a few notches. "At least he's put some weight back on. He shouldn't feel…well, quite as bad once he wakes up."

She knelt in front of the chair and into the line of his blank gaze. "Cloud? We're going to use this materia on you to see if it makes you feel better, ok? So you'll have to tell us if you feel any changes."

She looked back at Nanaki. "How soon will we know if it worked?"

Nanaki looked thoughtful. "We should know almost immediately. The reaction should create a yellow glow that we can see through his skin."

Tifa nodded and took a deep breath to calm herself. "Ok, here we go."

She focused her eyes on the stone and cleared her thoughts. Her daily practice with meditation had increased her skill quickly when she was first learning how to use materia, and she was easily able to slip back into it now. She heard the crackling sound that she had learned to associate with using magic, although it was different for every person.

The stone glowed and crackled in her hand and Tifa moved it over Cloud's skin, careful not to break her concentration and to cover every exposed piece of him. When she had finished, she released her mental hold and the crackling faded immediately. She looked to the animal, who had been carefully monitoring the process. "Well? Did it work?"

Nanaki didn't answer immediately. "I…do not know. I did not see the glowing I expected, and he does not seem to have responded at all." After another minute of careful consideration, his head dropped. "I do not think it worked, Tifa."

Tifa looked at him with aching disappointment. "So... what does that mean? What do we do now?"

Nanaki picked up the pouch in his teeth and held it toward Tifa. Wordlessly, Tifa dropped the stone back in the pouch and retied it around his neck.

"Now, I return to Cosmo Canyon, read some more, and try again. I am sorry, Tifa."

Another week passed. The days were starting to get warmer and Wutai looked more alive with its bursts of green. Tifa started taking her walks with Cloud later in the evening, as twilight kissed the horizon and the cool air soothed her sticky skin. The later hours did showcase more of the criminal element of the city, but Tifa swiftly took care of anyone who mistook them for easy prey.

Near the end of that week, she snapped awake in the middle of the night, not knowing why, but trusting her instincts. She listened carefully. She felt a shift in the air more than an actual sound, but it was difficult to pinpoint. After a few tense moments, a silhouette blocked the light spilling through the doorway from the bedroom window. She always left the bedroom door open so she could hear Cloud from the couch.

Silently, she slipped off the couch and crouched down.  In one smooth movement, she pounced on the intruder and put him into a submission hold, twisting his arm harshly behind his back. "Who are you and what do you want?" she demanded.

The stranger gasped and didn't answer, so she reached over with her free hand and flipped on the light. She squinted in the brightness, turning his face to get a better look. She recognized the distinctive white streak in his hair. "You—you're the guy from the park! What are you doing in my house?"

Technically, it wasn't her house, but Tifa wasn't in the mood for semantics.

"I—I'm sorry. I thought this was my house. I didn't turn on the lights because I didn't want to wake my wife. You—you're hurting me."

Tifa loosened her hold slightly, but she wasn't convinced. "The door was locked."

"My key opened it! I don't know, maybe we have the same one!"

It seemed unlikely, but she supposed it was possible. Reluctantly, she released the stranger and stood up. He sat against the wall, rubbing his shoulder.

"Jeez, lady, that's like assault!"

Tifa crossed her arms, unmoved. "I think it's justified when a stranger is creeping through your house in the dark, regardless of circumstances. You need to leave now."

"Ok, I'm going! Jeez." He took a few steps toward the door and then stopped, turning back to look her in the eyes. "Hey, by the way, what's going on with the dude in the wheelchair? I didn't think he could move, but he looked at me today at the park."

Startled, Tifa glanced at the bedroom. "What did you say?"

"I said he's moving. I think he's going to wake up. Hey, I can see him moving around in there right now!"

Instincts pushed aside by a bloom of hope, Tifa took a running step toward the bedroom. There was a burst of colors in front of her eyes, and then everything was black.

* * *

She groaned as the room came into focus, trying to ignore the hammering pain in her head.

"Oh good, you're awake. Just in time for the grand finale."

Tifa sat up with a jerk, memories of the night flooding back. How could she have been so stupid?  She found herself secured to a chair at the foot of Cloud's bed. Each of her legs was tied to one of the chair's front legs at the calf. Her arms were woven between the slats on the back of the chair and tied with a thick length of rope on the other side. The man stood between the side of the bed and the wall, hovering over the helpless patient with a very large syringe.

He studied Cloud's glowing blue eyes closely. "What the hell  _are_  you, Strife? I mean, I get that you're Mako enhanced; that much is obvious. But why won't you freaking  _die_?"

Tifa could only hope that he would carry on with his monologue and give her time to get free. She worked out the tiny knife wrapped within the bands of her bracelet, turning it toward the ropes at her wrist, minute movements sawing at the fibers.

"And  _you_!" He looked up at Tifa with disgust. "Gods, you're so freaking cheerful for someone watching a vegetable wither away. It was making me sick.  I couldn't deal with it any longer. This will be faster and  _much_  more painful." He smiled maliciously. "And this way, I get to watch you watch him die. It's a win-win."

Tifa stabbed him with an intense glare, but kept half her attention focused on worrying at her bindings. "That will never happen. He's already proven too strong to be taken down by some pathetic street drug. And how many months did you spend feeding that to him?"  She snorted.  "What a waste of gil. You might as well give up already."

The man scowled. "Yes, it was more expensive than expected, but luckily I get a wholesale discount. Maybe I underestimated him before." He waved the syringe at her lazily. "But  _this_  can kill a behemoth in mere hours. He doesn't stand a chance."

_Success!_ Her knife snapped through the last fiber. The man looked back at Cloud, and Tifa took the opportunity to smoothly disentangle her arms from the back of the chair. Her feet were still tied to the front legs of the chair though, and the birdfeeder was already tying the tourniquet around Cloud's arm.  She would have to find a quicker way to get her legs free.

Tifa grabbed the top of the chair at her back and twisted her body hard, smashing the wooden chair against the wall just as he slid the needle into Cloud's arm. The wood cracked, but it didn't split. Startled, the man looked up at her with wide eyes, and she slammed it again, and again, until the chair splintered into pieces. Her legs were free to move separately now, although still hindered by the jagged wood tied to them.

He took an instinctive step backward as she lunged at him, but he was in the corner of the room next to the bed and had nowhere to go. Tifa ignored the splinters digging into the backs of her legs. She tackled him to the ground and tucked his leg under her arm, twisting it into an excruciating ankle lock. He screamed out loud and then laughed, somehow managing to do both at the same time.

He sucked in a breath, attempting to override the pain long enough to speak. "Give it up, girl. Strife is as good as dead."

He hurled the syringe in her general direction and it bounced off of her arm, rolling to a stop on the ground next to her. It was empty. Tifa felt a surge of numbness rush through her body, followed by panic and fury and anguish. If he had expected her to give up in despair, he was sorely mistaken. White hot rage overtook her as she released his ankle and pounced on his chest. With an anguished scream, she grabbed his head in both hands and cut off his laughter with one sharp twist. There was a sickening crack, and then a thud as his head hit the floor.

She crawled over the body to the side of the bed, pulling herself up desperately. She grabbed Cloud's arm, searching for some indication that it wasn't real, that the poison hadn't already been emptied into his vein.

But there it was: the unmistakable new mark on his forearm.

Her mind raced in frantic circles. There had to be another explanation. The needle had slipped out before he pushed in the plunger. The syringe was empty to begin with. She'd dreamed the whole damn thing and would wake up any second in Seventh Heaven and find him sleeping in his room.

But it was no use. She knew it was real, that everything happened exactly as she had seen it happen. Cloud was going to die.

She hadn't even gotten him back, but she had to lose him all over again. How was that possible? How could you lose something you didn't have? Hot tears burned the back of her eyes. She hadn't cried when they found the crumpled corpse of Fenrir. She hadn't cried as she notified all of their friends. She hadn't cried at the funeral. She had never cried over him, because a part of her refused to believe he was gone. But now she would stay until the end, and she would have to believe it. She would be there with him when his body reacted to the poison in his blood, and she would hold him until the LifeStream came to claim him. How long did he have? Only minutes before the drugs stopped his heart, and then about 12 hours before he would be absorbed into the LifeStream completely?

She climbed onto the bed next to him, wrapping an arm around his torso and intertwining her legs with his, tucking her head under his chin. She had always imagined falling asleep with him like this, exhausted after making love, warm and content. She never imagined she would get the chance only when she was waiting for him to die. His heart was beating unnaturally fast, his skin was burning, and she knew it wouldn't be long now.

Tears trailed sideways down her face, trickling onto his chest, making a wet line down his body. She watched the stream of tears impassively, feeling disconnected from their release. They sparkled in the light overhead, and then started to bounce around erratically. His stomach was heaving. His face was ashen.

_It's starting…_

She rolled him onto his side and grabbed the bucket from beside the bed, then held him as his body ejected his last meal.  It was behemoth steak, she remembered -- his favorite.  Tears continued to stream silently down her face. This was the last thing she could do for him. She wouldn't let him suffer alone. When the heaving and coughing stopped, she rolled him onto his back and tenderly wiped his face with her sleeve. His flat blue eyes blinked up at her.

But…were they a little less flat than before? No. They were just glassy. She wouldn't torture herself with fantasies. But it seemed her mind was determined to. She was hearing sounds in the creaking of the old house, imagining a hoarse whisper.  _Tifa…_

She squeezed her eyes shut as a sob slipped out and she put her hand over her mouth, suppressing any more that might follow. So ingrained in her was the habit to shield others from her pain, she did it even when there was no one there to see.

"Tifa…?" a hoarse voice said, more clearly now. "Why are you crying?"

Tifa's eyes flew open. Bright blue irises were focused and they were moving, scanning her face with concern.

"C—Cloud? Are you really there?"

"You're…looking right at me, Tifa. Are you feeling ok?" He grimaced. "Ugh, gods, I feel like shit."

The metamorphosis of her face was slow and profound. Her eyebrows raised and the corners of her mouth turned up slightly before spreading into a wobbly smile. She laughed out loud and threw her arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly.

It was not exactly the response he had expected, and it wasn't helping his churning stomach. "Ok, seriously, Tifa, you should probably back up. I think I'm going to get sick."

She only hugged him tighter, the tears flowing freely as she murmured, "that's ok. The bucket's next to the bed."

He turned his head, for some reason too weak to push her away, but his nausea was forgotten in a second. "Hey Teef? Did you know there's a dead guy in the room?"

She released him and sat up, wiping ineffectually at the streaming tears. "Yeah, just ignore him. He'll be gone by morning."

Cloud scratched his head. "You did this? And you feel…fine?" It had been a long time since Tifa had killed another human being, and she always had a harder time with it than Cloud.

She looked at the corpse, idly noticing the tiny changes that happened to the body after the heart stopped beating – the waxy pallor of the skin, the blank clouding of the eyes. She felt absolutely no guilt about what she had done.  "Yeah." A smile split her face. "I feel great."


	9. Real Life

 

There were a number of questions in Cloud’s mind once he had taken in their surroundings.  Where were they?  What were they doing there?  How long had it been?  Why was he in his underwear?  Tifa patiently answered every question as he stared at her, incredulous. 

The only question she couldn’t answer was the _how_ question.  How did he suddenly come back after being given a massive overdose?

"I don’t know.  Maybe Nanaki can explain.  I don’t really care, Cloud.  I thought you were…” She shook her head hard, as if trying to shake the thought from her mind.  “I’m just glad it did.”

Cloud looked thoughtful as he worked through the stiffness in his limbs, pushing himself to the edge of the bed.  He put his feet on the ground and tried to stand, but his legs wobbled and threatened to give out under him.  Tifa ducked under his arm and wrapped it around her shoulder, supporting his weight before he fell.  He gave her a pained smile, instantly transported back to the boy in Nibelheim – so small and weak, his only wish to be strong so he could impress the girl next door.

Tifa must have read everything on his face, because she gave him a soft smile.  “Don’t worry, your strength will come back.”

He steadied himself and took his arm off her shoulder.  He needed to get to the bathroom and would really rather do it on his own.  He made his way there and closed the door, leaning on it for a moment to rest.  A very uncomfortable thought occurred to him.

When he returned a few minutes later, she was in the living room, straightening some furniture from her short-lived tussle with the intruder.  He sat on the couch and watched her in silence.  Standing up after fixing the rug, she noticed him and smiled.               

“I know it’s the middle of the night,” she said, “but it’s been so long since we’ve talked and…” She looked embarrassed.  “Well, since _you’ve_ talked.  I really don’t think I can sleep now.  Will you stay up and talk with me for a while?”

Slowly, he nodded.  “Yeah.”

She sat down next to him and pulled her feet underneath her on the couch.  She played with the hair on the back of his head, the mini spikes that would be too long by now if she hadn’t kept them trimmed.  She’d gotten used to touching him whenever she pleased, but she could see she was making him uncomfortable, so she dropped her hand back in her lap.

Cloud fidgeted nervously, needing to know but unsure how to even bring it up.  He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.  “So Tifa, I was just thinking.  Did you…umm…how did I uh…shower?”

His whole face was turning pink and he wouldn’t make eye contact.  His blond spikes were falling over his face, covering his discomfort.  It was so adorable that for a moment she considered toying with him for a while, but in the end, she couldn’t make him suffer for her own amusement.  Not now, anyway.

“It wasn’t you,” she said, smiling softly.  “It was just a shell, and I was taking care of it until you came back.  Just like you took care of me when I was hurt.”

He turned to look at her, a storm of conflict in the deep blue oceans of his eyes.  He didn’t see those as the same things at all.  “Tifa…you gave up everything to come here and take care of me.  I bandaged your wounds and made you soup.  Bad soup.”

Tifa tried hard to suppress the smile.  “It…doesn’t matter how bad it was, Cloud.” 

Cloud didn’t react to her teasing.  She pushed some hair out of his face.  She wanted to see his eyes – eyes that weren’t flat and emotionless.  She read the emotion in them now and pulled her hand back.  “What’s wrong?”

He put his head down, digging his hands into the disheveled spikes on top of his head, elbows on his knees.  He stared at the floor.  That surreal feeling of waking up in a strange place, weakened and disoriented, was fading.  It was just starting to hit him, the reality of what had happened.  “Tifa…this was the third time.”

Tifa looked confused.  “The third time?  For what?”

He dug his toes into a crack on the wooden floor.  “The third time I’ve been…gone.  Out of my head.  A damn invalid who needed someone to keep me alive.”  He pushed up from the couch, turning away from her.  He couldn’t stand to look at her face, the softness and understanding he knew he would see there, that he didn’t deserve.  Bitterness colored his voice.  “I’m 24 years old, Tifa, and I still can’t take care of myself.  I’m never going to be…the person I wanted to be.”

He didn’t hear her come up behind him.  He only felt the touch, feather light on his bare back, her fingers tracing lightly around his shoulder blades, down his spine.  Slowly, he released the tension in his muscles.  Her touch always had that effect on him.  She was a soothing balm to his angst.

Tifa saw the muscles of his back quiver and relax.  She moved to his shoulders and started to massage them, pushing out the residual stiffness of disuse along with this new tightness.  “But,” she said softly, “I like the person you are.”

_I don’t._ He shrugged her off and said softly, “you know, I’m starting to get tired now.  We should probably go to bed.”

“Oh.  O—okay.”  Tifa tried not to let the disappointment color her voice.

He turned around to look at her.  The sadness in his eyes crushed her.  She knew that look; she had hoped never to see it again.  Her heart cried out against it.  _No!  He’s made so much progress!  Goddess, just let him be happy, just for a while.  He’s suffered so much._ Without thinking, she reached out to touch his face.

Cloud turned his head away.  “You can have the bed tonight.  I’ll take the couch.”

She dropped her hand and swallowed past the lump in her throat.  “No.  If you don’t mind, I’d rather stick with the couch.  I like it better.”  Truthfully, she couldn’t bear the thought of going to that bed and lying there without him.  And although she would never let him know, she still felt the need to put herself between him and the front door, to protect him.

“Okay.  Well, um, goodnight then.”

Tifa laid there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, long after he had gone back to the bedroom and the light was turned off. 

Despite the short night, Tifa woke up before sunrise and went through her usual routine.  By the time the sun peeked over the horizon, she had pulled out her bag and began packing up the few things she’d brought.  Cloud, of course, hadn’t brought anything but the clothes he was wearing, but she’d purchased some things for him with money Barret had sent from Seventh Heaven.  She packed those in her bag as well, and then cleaned up the tiny house.

She hadn’t been able to resist peeking in on him.  Some tiny part of her was still convinced that she would find him cold and white, one foot in the LifeStream.  But when she poked her head in the door, she found him curled up in the blankets, mumbling in his sleep.  She smiled, wondering what he was dreaming about, and softly closed the door.

Cloud finally wandered out around 10:00, stretching and yawning and looking more like himself.  Tifa looked up from her book.  “Breakfast is on the table, Cloud.  We can leave as soon as you’re ready.”

He blinked at her sleepily.  “Leave?”

“Yeah.  We should get back to Edge.  You know, real life.”  She gave him a tentative smile.  “I haven’t told anyone you woke up yet, but I think we should just show up and surprise them.” 

He scratched his head.  “Yeah, ok.”  He still had a hard time imagining that it had been four months since any of them had seen him.  They had really all thought him dead?  It was hard to wrap his head around.  He wandered over to the table, feeling a little more steady this morning.  Tifa had made all of his favorite foods, and they were still warm as if she had known exactly when he would get up. 

Once he sat down, he realized he was ravenous.  Tifa went back to her book.  Cloud piled his plate with everything he could fit, and he watched her while he ate.  He wondered how she did it.  How did she stay so upbeat when everything was so messed up?  The sunlight shone through the window and sparkled on her hair, making it look lighter, making her look younger.  He finished his glass of orange juice and smiled slightly.  She deserved better.  He just had to make her understand.

Thoroughly stuffed, Cloud brought his plate to the sink and started running dishwater in the sink.  Tifa came up behind him and grabbed a dishtowel, smiling at him.  He washed, she dried, and they fell back into their comfortable roles as if the past 4 months had never happened.  The only thing different was their conversation.  Despite Tifa’s efforts, he didn’t remember anything she had told him about Marlene and Denzel, so she filled him in on everything he had missed.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute.  You left _Yuffie_ in charge of the bar and the kids?   Damn, you must have really been desperate.”

Tifa forced a smile.  She didn’t want him to know how difficult that time had been for all of them.  He didn’t need to know about the strained relationships between Tifa and the kids, her short temper with them, her inability to stay focused on what needed to be done to help everyone move on.  So she laughed.  “Yeah, well, we were desperately in need of your mechanical skills.  The place was falling apart.”

Cloud laughed softly.  “I’m glad I’m good for something.”

* * *

 

Barret had returned to Edge on Tifa’s chocobo and left the truck with her.  Besides the obvious comical value of watching the big man trying to ride on a sleek golden bird, Tifa was glad to have the truck to bring Cloud back.  He fell asleep an hour into the ride and didn’t move for the rest of the time.  The trip back took much longer since they were forced to stick to roads and bridges, and it was late at night by the time they made it to Edge.

She pulled into the parking lot and turned off the truck, listening to the ticking of the cooling engine as she got her first good look at home, sweet home.  She wasn’t impressed.  The grass in the front of the building was overgrown, and litter clung desperately to the weeds which had spread unchecked.  On the other hand, the parking lot was packed, and that was always a good sign.

She looked over at her sleeping passenger.  Even in slumber he looked defeated.  She shook his shoulder gently.  “Hey Cloud, wake up.  We’re home.”

He sat up and blinked slowly.  “Wow, you drove the whole way?  I’m sorry Teef, I didn’t mean to crash on you like that.”

“It’s ok.  I’m pretty sure you’re going to need all the energy you can get once they see you’re back.”  She smiled tentatively.  “Ready for this?”

“As I’ll ever be.”  He opened his door and stepped out, stretching his arms over his head.  They walked across the parking lot together.  She pulled open the heavy door and was immediately pushed back a step by a blast of music.  After the initial shock, she gave him a shrug and led him inside.

It was amazing that they could hear anything over the music, but an eardrum shattering scream split the air.  Yuffie charged at them, hurling herself over tables and knocking over chairs before leaping to wrap her arms and legs around Cloud.  He stumbled back under her weight and fell against the door, which had thankfully latched behind them.

Yuffie let herself down and stepped back to look at him.  “Damn, kid, you really let yourself go.”

Cloud shrugged with a sad smile, and Tifa suddenly remembered her urge to smack Yuffie for her insensitivity.  But then the little ninja remembered her excitement.  She grabbed Cloud’s hands and jumped up and down squealing.  “I can’t believe you’re ok, Cloud!  I am so, so, _so_ happy to see you.  God, you have no idea how awful it was when everyone thought you were dead!  Tifa was all—“

“Yuffie!” Tifa interrupted.  “I need your help in the kitchen.”  She grabbed Yuffie’s arm and dragged her in the direction of the swinging door.

“But I just…can’t it wait?  Cloud just got back and—”

“No, it can’t wait,” Tifa said firmly.

Pouting, Yuffie allowed herself to be pulled along by her boss.

As the door swung shut behind them, Barret came out from one of the back rooms, looking absolutely ridiculous carrying a dainty platter full of beer mugs.  He was anything but graceful, and beer sloshed over the edges of the full mugs as he made his way across the floor.  Cloud caught his eye and Barret broke out into a huge grin, setting the entire platter on the nearest table and lumbering over to the door.  The gunman picked him up with a giant hug and squeezed the air out of Cloud.

“Damn, am I glad to see you, man!  We been worried sick!”  He set down the blond and put a heavy hand on his shoulder.  “Don’t you ever do that to us again, Spiky.  It’s just…not the same without you.”

There was a catch in Barret’s voice, and the affection from the most unexpected source caught Cloud off-guard.  “I…I’ll try not to.”

Barret clapped him on the back heartily.  Turning to face the bar with a sweep of his arm, he asked, “what do you think of the new Seventh Heaven?”

The place was as packed as the parking lot suggested.  A corner of the room had been converted into a small dance floor, which was full of jamming bodies.  On the opposite wall, a man stood behind a half-moon table, dealing cards to a group of customers.  They had installed some colored bulbs in the overhead lights, casting the bar with a completely different vibe.  Gaia knew where they had even found the undamaged bulbs.

Cloud nodded as he surveyed the room.  “It looks great.  I hope the boss likes it.”

Barret laughed, his booming voice carrying over the room.  “If she doesn’t, I’m counting on you to talk her into it.  Hey!” he said suddenly, grabbing Cloud’s arm.  “You’ve gotta go wake up the kids!  They’re gonna be so thrilled to see you.”

Cloud resisted the pull on his arm.  “No, we shouldn’t wake them.  It can wait until morning…”

Barret didn’t even notice his token resistance.  “Are you kidding?  They would kill me if they knew you were home and I didn’t wake ‘em up.”  He pulled him through the throng of people, over to the stairs, and finally released him at the bottom.  He gave him a gentle nudge.  “Don’t make me carry you, Spiky.”

Hesitantly, Cloud started up the stairs.  He wasn’t sure how the kids were going to react to him.  He hadn’t left them intentionally, but the fact remained that he had disappeared for months, and kids were ruled by emotion, not logic.

He pushed open the door, allowing a wedge of light into the dark room.  His boots sounded unnaturally loud in the silence of the bedroom.  He stood between the two beds, watching the sleeping children.  It seemed like they had grown so much in the short time he’d been gone.  He knelt next to Denzel’s bed, soaking in the peaceful look on his innocent face.   Tentatively, he reached out a hand and shook the little boy’s shoulder.

Denzel blinked sleepily over at him.  “Cloud?......CLOUD!”  Immediately awake, he jumped out of bed and engulfed Cloud in a massive hug.  “I knew you’d come back!”

Marlene lifted her head at Denzel’s shouting.  Her eyes grew wide as she took him in.  Cloud watched her anxiously.  He was nervous about how she would react, considering her stubborn ability to hold a grudge.  He needn’t have worried.  She screamed and hopped out of bed, throwing herself on top of the Cloud-hug pile.

The two kids talked over the top of each other, competing for his attention, mainly chattering about how they’d known all along that he would be back and they were never the least bit worried that he wouldn’t wake up.

Hearing all the commotion, Tifa had come upstairs.  She leaned against the doorframe on one hip, silently watching the joyful reunion.  Cloud was looking back and forth between the kids with that tiny curve at the corners of his mouth, the smile they got most often on the rare occasions that he smiled at all.

After several minutes of overwhelming excitement, Cloud broke in.  “Ok guys, don’t you think you should be getting back to bed?  It’s really late.”

The kids gaped at him.  “You want us to sleep _now_?” Denzel asked incredulously.

“Yeah!” Marlene piped in. “We’re _way_ too excited to sleep now!  Let’s go down to the bar and tell everyone you’re back!”

Tifa spoke up.  “Uhm, the bar is pretty busy, guys.”  Not to mention that it was after midnight and people in the bar tended to be less appropriate in these hours, regardless of whether children were present.  She looked at their hopeful faces and softened.  “But I suppose we could hang out in the kitchen for a bit.  We might still have some ice cream left.”

Marlene and Denzel exchanged a look.  Yuffie had kept them well stocked in ice cream while they were away, and Barret only occasionally vetoed their consumption.  They grinned and ducked around Tifa in the doorway, running down the stairs ahead of the adults.  Cloud got to his feet and walked slowly toward Tifa.  She watched him coming closer, looking for the faint light that had come back into his eyes as he talked to the kids.

He stopped in front of her.  “Uh, Tifa?”

“Hmm?”  She smiled softly.

Cloud’s eyes shifted to the hallway behind her.  “Um.  Are we going down?”

Startled, Tifa realized that she was staring, and that she was still blocking the doorway.  “Oh!  Right.  Yes, let’s go,” she said, stepping out of the way. 

* * *

 

 

Cloud was clearly anguished over her demise.  He stood in the garage,  looking at the mangled body.  He knew it was just a bike, but he had spent so many happy hours with her.  But there was no question, Fenrir was toast.  Even if he had still had the strength to bend it back, he wouldn’t be certain of the integrity of the metal.  No, he was going to have to start all over.

He pressed the button to open the hidden compartments.  At least First Tsurugi was still there, whole and undamaged.  He pulled out the six swords and reassembled them into one, fingers moving nimbly over the latches and releases.  His own memory may have had more holes than Swiss cheese, but his muscle memory was flawless.

He noticed the compartment at the top, still closed.  It was a smaller one he sometimes used to carry things more suited for pockets.  He popped it open.  The crumbling, delicate heads of flowers poked out.  He remembered when he had picked them for Tifa, before the accident, before he had been violently reminded that he could never, and would never be normal.  He picked them up carefully.  A gust of wind through the garage door scattered the remains of the dried out flowers.  He released the stems and watched them twirl and fall apart in the wind.

He sighed, remembering the things he’d meant to tell her that day.  If he had stayed that day, insisted on saying what he needed to say, would the past 4 months have been completely different?

In the end, maybe it was for the best.  It was the reminder he needed that anything real with him would inevitably be a disaster.  He knew the last four months were hard on her, but if it spared her the pain of a lifetime, he was glad that they were past it.

Heavy footfalls warned him of Barret’s impending arrival.  “Yo, whatcha doin’, Spiky?  Everyone’s inside waiting for you.”

He dragged his eyes up to his friend, slinging his sword into the harness on his back.  “Yeah.  I’m coming.”

It was a party for him.  Yuffie had gleefully  informed him it was a “Hooray – You’re Not Dead!” party, and had invited basically everyone who had attended his funeral.  He was trying to stand off to the side and observe as usual, but it was really difficult when people kept trying to talk to him.  Most of them wanted to know what had happened to him, but he was utterly unhelpful since he didn’t remember any of it.  All he knew was what Tifa had told him about the man with the white streak.  He was disturbingly familiar to Cloud, but he was never able to place him.

He did have an extended conversation with Nanaki about what had been going on in his body – if you could call it a conversation, since Cloud’s side consisted mainly of grunts and nods.  Red talked about chemical reactions and neutralization and metabolizing parts of the drugs separately and building up immunity and was generally in awe of the S-cells inhabiting Cloud’s body.  When he was finished, Cloud just said, “Oh.”  It didn’t make much sense to him, but he supposed he could be glad that _someone_ understood his body.

After he had managed to get through all of the necessary conversations, Cloud poured himself some punch in a plastic cup and finally got the chance to sit down at a table to watch and listen.  He tried to watch everyone, but he found his eyes kept being drawn back to Tifa.  She was in an animated conversation with Yuffie – as most conversations with Yuffie tended to be – and he was mesmerized by the myriad of shifting expressions on her face, the tilt of her head, the crinkles at the corners of her eyes, and the way she was always pushing the hair behind her ear on one side.

He was interrupted by an irritating voice.  “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Cloud looked over with annoyance at the red-haired man who had joined him at the table.  “Excuse me?”

“You got some kind of fear of being happy, Strife?  Why don’t you just go for it?”

Cloud glared at him and crushed the empty cup in his hand.  “Mind your own business, Reno.”

As usual, Reno was completely unruffled by Cloud’s gruffness.  He leaned back and put his feet up on the table, crossing them at the ankles.  “Well, you know, apparently this party is supposed to be about you.  So you kind of are my business right now.  And you’re making it pretty damn obvious that you’ve got it bad for her.”

He didn’t try to deny it; Turks were masters at reading people, and they’d had more experience than most at studying the likes of Cloud Strife.  Instead, he scowled.  “It doesn’t matter.  It won’t work.”

The Turk chewed on a toothpick.  “How do you know that? Have you tried?”

Reno’s deceptively simple words got under his skin.  “I just…know, ok?  Just drop it.” 

Cloud stood up to throw away the mangled cup in his hand and then escaped outside for some air.  He leaned against the brick at the front wall of the bar and crossed his arms, brooding.  Despite his irritation, the redhead’s words haunted him.  _Have you tried?_

He desperately wished to escape for a drive on Fenrir, some time to sort out his thoughts and get away from all these meddlesome people.  But that was not an option any longer.  Fenrir was one of a kind; even if he’d had the money, he couldn’t just buy another one.

His dark thoughts were interrupted as the door opened to his left.  _Damn it, why can’t they just leave me alone for a few minutes?_

But it was Tifa who stepped through the door, and she was probably the only person he could tolerate at the moment.  She leaned against the wall next to him, imitating his posture, just standing there silently, letting him work through his thoughts.

Finally, he spoke.  “I know I should be in there with everyone, but I just…” he trailed off, unable to find the right words, but it didn’t matter.  Tifa understood.

She smiled gently.  “I know, Cloud.  If you want, I can come up with an excuse to tell them.  You can go if you need to.”

He turned to look at her.  The hair that she had been pushing back all night had slipped over her ear again.  He pushed it back for her, and then kept his hand on her cheek, wondering how it was possible that someone sane could understand him so well.  What had he ever done to deserve someone like her?

_Have you tried?_

Slowly he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers and looking into her eyes.  “No.  I’m not going anywhere.”  He layered as many meanings into it as he could, knowing she would understand, because she always did.

Tifa’s heartbeat sped up.  She couldn’t remember the last time he had initiated touching her.  She had long since accepted that she couldn’t have him the way she wanted him.  She had spent too long hurting over him, wishing for something that wouldn’t happen, and it was a relief to shutter off her heart and give up hope.  That was how she kept going.  That was how she survived, and stayed strong for everyone else.

In the light of day, with the work that she had to do and the kids to take care of, it seemed logical.  Responsible.  Reasonable.  Safe.

But when she thought she had lost him, she had been forced to admit that he was far more important to her than a childhood friend.  More important than her comrade-in-arms, her roommate, and her unofficial co-adoptive partner.  

She brought up her hand and laced her fingers through the back of his hair.  His thumb gently stroked her bottom lip and she allowed her mouth to open slightly.  She watched his eyes, looking to her lips, back to her eyes.  It was still so exhilarating to see them reacting, to see understanding and emotion behind them. 

His thumb moved down to her chin and tilted her face up, his eyes closing.  He kissed her lips gently, then pulled her in deeper, opening her mouth wider, catching her upper lip between his, tongue gently probing.

An unfamiliar voice floated through his mind.  _I want to see you hurt the ones you care about most._

Cloud pulled back with a jerk, leaving a cold space where his body had been against hers.  Tifa started to fall forward, catching herself on the wall before she landed on her face.  She blinked in confusion.  “Cloud?”

His eyes were tightly squeezed shut, his face contorted.  Anger?  Frustration?  She didn’t know.  She reached for his arm but he pulled away.

“Fuck!”  he cursed.  He buried his face in his hands, rubbing it roughly.  He refused to look at her.  “Tifa.  We can’t.  I…I’m sorry.”  Without offering any further explanation, he stood up straight and walked past her, back into the bar.

Tifa slouched against the wall.  _Damn it, Cloud, will I ever understand you?_


	10. The Day Cloud Smiled

Her pride had been stung, but at least now she knew where they stood. She would accept her place in his life, and they would go back to the way they had been. It was enough for her. It would have to be.

To the casual observer, it may have looked like life as usual. They took up their normal roles at the bar and with the kids. Cloud fixed the endlessly leaking pipes, patched up the holes in the walls that invariably appeared where alcohol and aggression were combined, and cleared out the clogged lines of the taps. But something was missing. It seemed like a darkness followed him everywhere he went, and the small smiles he gave so sparingly were now absent altogether.

After a couple of months of this sullen Cloud, Tifa had to say something. She had silently watched him pushing mashed potatoes around his plate all through dinner, one elbow on the table, resting his head on his hand.

"Is it ok if me and Marlene go play?" Denzel asked after wolfing down his food with the usual gusto.

"Marlene and I," Tifa corrected absently. "And yes, as soon as you bring your dishes into the kitchen."

Denzel grinned and dashed off to the kitchen with his plate. Gathering her own plate and glass, Marlene followed at a more leisurely pace.

Tifa waited until she heard their footsteps pounding up the stairs. "You don't like the potatoes?"

Cloud kept his head parked on his hand but raised his eyes, his expression blank. "No, they're fine. I'm just not very hungry."

Tifa raised an eyebrow. "That, in itself, seems like a problem."

He shrugged. "Not really. I don't do very much anymore. I don't get as hungry."

Tifa tilted her head as she examined him. It was true; in the past, he had found it nearly impossible to sit still. But more than once over the past weeks, she had seen him sitting on the couch, staring at nothing. He didn't train, didn't play or joke with the kids, didn't say anything except the minimal required responses when asked a question, and otherwise just sat around. Since he'd been "dead" for months, he'd lost all of his regular customers, but he'd done nothing to try to start up again.

She tapped her fingers on the table thoughtfully. "Cloud, why don't you ever go anywhere anymore? Not that I don't appreciate having you around all the time…but you used to go crazy if you had to stay home for more than a day at a time. You haven't left the bar in weeks. You're a  _doer_ , Cloud. And lately…you're not."

He blinked once – he even  _blinked_  slower – but otherwise his expression didn't change. "Where am I going to go, Tifa? How would I go anywhere? Fenrir's a pile of mangled metal."

Tifa frowned. "So? You practically built her from scratch. You can't buy some replacement parts and fix her?"

"With what money?"

"We have money, Cloud. Maybe not enough to fix it all at once, but a little at a time."

Cloud looked down at his still-full plate. "No, Tifa," he said softly. " _You_  have money. I have nothing. I…" His shoulders drooped even further. "I shouldn't be here."

Tifa slammed her fist on the table, causing the dishes to jump. The silverware clattered together loudly. He looked back up, startled, the dimmed light in his eyes flickering brighter for a moment.

"Damn it, Cloud, don't you dare do this again!" Tifa snarled. "You said you weren't going anywhere, and now you want to break your promise. Again. God! Every time I think you've learned, something happens to drag you down and we start this whole cycle over again!"

She stood up so fast that she knocked over her chair. She put her palms on the table and leaned forward, leveling him with fury. "Do you think it makes it  _easier_  on us when you just leave? Because it's not easier. Ever. We just worry because we don't know what's going on with you, we don't know if you're ok on your own, and we can't do anything to help you. It just  _sucks_  and you can't put us all through that again."

Cloud turned away with a pained look in his eyes. Tifa schooled her expression and took a calming breath. As panicked as she was at the thought of losing him again, making him feel guilty was not helping.  She righted her chair and sat down again.

She caught his eye and spoke more softly. "Cloud, why do you feel like you have to deal with all your problems alone? Families, real or not, they help each other. They get through things  _together_." This wasn't the first time she'd given him this speech, but it had stuck for a while last time. Maybe he just needed to hear it again.

He sat up a little straighter, a spark of anger lighting him up. His blue eyes flashed brighter than she'd seen in weeks. "I know, Tifa, but it's not us helping each other. It's you helping me. Always. I just take, and take, and never give."

Tifa's hands tightened into fists on the table. "Oh really? Well then it's a good thing I've never gotten hurt. What would we ever do if I got laid up? What if I had to close the bar? Who would pay the bills and look after the kids and take care of me and sit by my bed  _every damn day until I got better_?"

The spark fizzled out and he slouched back into the chair. "That was different. You were protecting Marlene. That was...it wasn't your fault."

"And what happened to you was your fault? It  _is_  the same. The only difference is that you hold on to everything bad, every shitty thing that's ever happened in your life, every mistake you've ever made, or think you might have made, or anything you could have changed but didn't. And you choose not to remember anything good you've ever done."

Tifa reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "Cloud," she asked softly, "how many people do you need to save before you're good enough for yourself?"

Cloud pulled his hand away and looked down.  She thought she might have gotten through to him, but it seemed that he only heard what he wanted to hear.  "I don't remember if it was my fault or not," he said softly. "I meant that what happened to  _you_  was my fault. I should've been there."

Tifa scoffed. "No, you shouldn't have been there. You were where you were supposed to be – doing your job. And I was doing mine. It just happened.  _Life_  happens, Cloud. We can't control it, and we can't predict it. We don't know what effects our choices will have. All we can do is make our way through it the best that we can." She paused and met his eyes, lowering her voice. "As long as we help each other through it, we can get through anything."

 _She won't talk for anything. And I do mean **anything**_ , _Strife._

Cloud jerked upright in his chair. Their entire discussion was wiped from his mind by the random fragment of memory. "Tifa…" he began, looking her over closely. "What happened when those people were holding you?"

Startled by the sudden change in topic, Tifa frowned. "You know what happened."

"I saw the chains they were using to hold you. The cuts and bruises…" he closed his eyes, remembering how much it hurt to see what they had done to her. "They were awful. I know they hurt you. But…is that all that happened?"

_Pain, pain, go away, come again some other day…_

With an effort, Tifa kept her face straight. She put her hands under the table to hide the shaking. She didn’t want to revisit those memories.  "Why are we talking about this again?  This is about  _you_.”

Like a hound dog who had caught a scent, Cloud picked up on her distress and refused to let it go.  “No,” he said softly, reading every familiar line in her face.  “This is important.  I – I think I remembered something and I need to know if it’s real.”  He felt a tiny bit guilty for using his faulty memory to get her to talk to him.  Sometimes these little keyholes opened up huge doors, and Tifa being Tifa, she wouldn’t take the chance of letting it slip by.

He watched the rise and fall of her chest, speeding up as her eyes went distant. There was something she had been suppressing, and Cloud was probably the last person in the world who could offer any kind of therapy, but he was there and he could listen.

“Tifa?” he prodded.  “What happened?”

Reflexively, Tifa pulled her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Her face was haunted.  “I don’t want to…” she said softly, casting her eyes down.  “Please don’t ask me to…”

_…and I do mean **anything**._

Cloud's stomach churned. Moving faster than he had in a long time, he was around the table and at her side. Kneeling by her chair, he pulled her body to his. She stayed as she was on the chair, rigidly holding her knees, within his arms.

"God, Tifa, I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I didn't think about…" His voice shook.

Slowly, she let go of her knees and let him pull her onto his lap on the floor, where she curled into him and fought the flood of memories. One tiny sob slipped out before she slammed the door. She sat up with a gasp, wiping her face. "Oh. Shit. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

Tifa tried to stand up, to push herself off of him, but Cloud grabbed her hands, pulling her back down. "Hey," he said, drawing her eyes back to his. "We get through things together…right?"

She stared at him for a moment, then nodded slowly. She'd never expected to have her own words thrown back at her, but she was just as guilty of trying to handle everything on her own, wasn't she? How could she lecture him on letting them in when she didn't let anyone in either? She sank down against his chest and let him support her. She let it come back slowly – the feelings, the memories, everything building up until it was an avalanche of hurt. Everything she had held back for so long was finally released. He rested his chin on top of her head and held her tight while the storm raged through her. Cloud felt completely useless. He didn't know what to say to Tifa, what to do to help her. So he said nothing.

Tifa clung to his shirt and let the pain wash over her, and out of her. The sobs wracked her body, and she felt as if she would have floated away if he had not been there to anchor her. Eventually, the tears died down to a trickle. And when she was all cried out, she felt different. She felt almost peaceful. Had she known it would be so cathartic, maybe she wouldn't have held on to it all for so long. But it was also exhausting, and her head was pounding. She wiped her face with his shirt – pointless, really, since it was already soaked – and sat up. She gave him a watery smile as his eyes followed her. How wonderful, she thought, that Cloud knew she just needed him to be there, not to say anything.

Cloud tipped up her chin, studying her big brown eyes, now red and puffy. "Are you ok?"

Tifa nodded tiredly. "Yeah. I'll be ok. I'm just really worn out now."

"Why don't you take a nap?" he suggested.

Tifa looked scandalized. Take a nap? There was far too much to do to before the bar opened to even consider wasting the evening. "No. I'll just get some coffee." She kissed his cheek softly before standing. "Thanks, Cloud."

Cloud watched her walk away. He was lost in his own thoughts. How much time had he spent wallowing in self-pity? He had been so focused on himself, on his own problems, that he hadn't even seen that she needed him. Was that what he had done before? All the times he had run away, he had told himself that he was trying to spare them. He wanted to protect them, hadn't he? Or was it just easier for him to tell himself that they didn't need him?

He stood up with a new determination. He had things to do.

* * *

Maybe it wasn't so bad. He squatted next to Fenrir, pulling at the crumpled metal to get a better look. Both of the front wheels were trashed, and the front axle was almost unrecognizable. The headlight and windshield would need to be replaced, and it would definitely need some body work. But the springs for the hidden compartments had been surprisingly hard to find, and at least that was all still intact.

He would need to get the metal pieces out of the way before he could see if there was any more damage inside, but now that he thought about it, he could probably find a lot of the parts. The wreckage of Midgar had been pretty picked over, but there was still plenty of scrap to find, if one dug deep enough. In fact, hadn't Denzel been a scrap monkey for a while, before he stumbled upon Cloud's phone at Aerith's church? He could help Cloud find some good places to dig through. Feeling better than he had for a long time, he pulled on his gloves and got to work.

* * *

"Denzel! You ready?" Cloud called up the stairs.

"Coming!" came the reply.

The little boy dashed down the stairs, sliding across the landing in his socks. He was practically bouncing off the walls with excitement.

"Wait for me!" Marlene scampered down the stairs behind him, her best dress floating around her knees.

"Umm, Marlene? Why are you wearing a dress?" Cloud questioned.

"It's to celebrate The Day Cloud Got Off His Ass," she said brightly.

Cloud couldn't help it. He laughed out loud.

"Marlene!" Tifa scolded. "Don't use that word."

Marlene blinked up at her innocently. "That's what Yuffie called it." Then she looked over at Cloud and tilted her head. "I can call it The Day Cloud Smiled, if you like that better."

_Do I really not smile that often? …I guess not._

Cloud crouched down in front of her. "I definitely like that better. But Marlene, you can't wear that when we're digging through scrap."

The little girl crossed her arms. "Why not? I look like a girl. Girls can be tough, too. Yuffie says you're just being sexist if you say they're not."

Cloud looked up at Tifa, admiring her quiet strength. He smiled softly. "You're right, Marlene. Girls are very tough." He looked back down at her. "But your dress will get dirty and get caught on things and ripped. Your legs will get all scratched up."

Marlene scowled. "I don't care. I'm celebrating."

"Ok," Cloud shrugged, standing back up. "You can celebrate all you want, but you can't come with us unless you put on some pants. And some better shoes," he said, looking at her dainty sandals pointedly.

"UGH! Sexist!" Marlene stamped her foot and then dashed up the stairs, skirt flying behind her. She was unusually mature for her age, and sometimes Cloud forgot she was only 7 until she did something like this to remind him.

Cloud looked at Denzel, unsure if she was throwing a tantrum or actually going to change.

"She's changing," Denzel assured him as he tied his own shoes. "She'll be right back."

In less than a minute, she was back downstairs, wearing worn-out jeans and tennis shoes. She seemed to have gotten over her frustration in that short time, because she was beaming up at him. She gave him her best salute. "Marlene Wallace, reporting for duty. Ready to scrap!"

Cloud ruffled her hair affectionately. "Much better. Ok guys, let's go."

When they reached the edge of the Midgar wreckage, Cloud looked to Denzel. "All right man, you lead the way. To start with, we need to find a pretty big piece of glass, and some scrap metal. And keep an eye out for a working headlight."

"Got it." Denzel nimbly climbed up a pile of scrap. Marlene followed behind, not quite as quickly but almost as gracefully. Cloud worked his way to the top, the scrap frequently shifting and sliding under his weight.

By mid-day, all three of them were filthy and hot. In contrast to Cloud, who was worn out and ready for a break, the kids were up and down the rubble, digging and sliding and calling excitedly to each other over each new treasure they found.

"Hey, guys!" Cloud called. "Let's head back and get some lunch."

There was a duo of "Awwww" from Denzel and Marlene, but they dutifully came running to catch up to Cloud, who was carefully picking his way back to the road, carrying the goodies they had discovered that day. They had found a rectangular piece of glass with only a few chips, large enough for the windshield. He could easily repair and reshape it with some high-level fire materia. They had also lucked out and found a decently large sheet of metal that Cloud could use for most of the body work. Overall, he was pretty pleased with the haul.

When they arrived back at the bar, Cloud brought the scrap to the garage and went around the side to the back door of the bar. He entered through the kitchen and headed straight to the sink, scrubbing his hands and arms and face in the blessedly cold water. He would have liked a shower, but there wasn't much point since they would be going right back out after lunch.

Tifa came in the kitchen just as he finished drying his hands. She stopped and put her hands on her hips when she saw him. "Did you forget to put on sunscreen this morning?"

Cloud touched his hot face and had the grace to look sheepish. "Uhh…I forgot?"

She shook her head, giving him her best disappointed look. "Well, you should really stay out of the sun for the rest of the day."

He could have argued, but he latched on to the excuse gratefully. "Yeah, you're right. We'll have to go back tomorrow."

Tifa raised her eyebrows, surprised to hear him agreeing so readily. He was just so tired. All he wanted to do was crash for the rest of the day. But first – food and a shower.

* * *

The condensation collecting on the outside of the water bottle was cold in Tifa's hand. She was on her way out to the garage to check on Cloud. He'd been in there all day, and she still worried that he would get tired, although it had been a while since he'd shown any signs of fatigue in the middle of the day. He was definitely regaining his strength and stamina. She decided to see how he looked, and talk him into taking a break if he looked like he needed it.

Light flickered through the window of the garage door. She turned the knob and pushed the door open. He had his back to her, sparks jumping in front of him from the welder in his hand. His bare arms glistened with sweat where they weren't covered in dirt, and he was wearing a welding mask. She waited patiently for him to turn off the welder, and then touched his arm with the water bottle. He jumped from the cold shock.

He pushed the mask up on his head. "Shit, Tifa, you scared me." He wiped at the sweat on his face, smearing it with dirt from his hand.

She smirked, leaning a hip against the table holding his tools. "I didn't know it was possible to sneak up on you."

"Well, you know, the welder is loud, and the mask…" he gestured to the sides of his face, indicating that it was blocking his peripheral vision.

She held out the water and he took it gratefully, tipping his head back and draining half of it in one drink.

"Thanks," he said, replacing the cap. "So what's up?"

"Nothing. Just seeing what you were doing." She smiled. "Glad to see you wear a helmet for something. Will you wear one for riding now?"

There it was again, that slight curve of his lips that she cherished but saw so rarely. "Not a chance." With a sharp nod of his head, the face mask flipped back down.

* * *

[2 months later]

Cloud pulled into the parking lot of Seventh Heaven, cutting the engine. It was his first ride on the rebuilt Fenrir, and he couldn't remember the last time he felt so good. The gold and black metal reflected in the overhead lights. It was late, he knew, but he wanted to take Tifa out for a ride.

He pulled open the front door, ignoring the greetings from the regulars in the bar. "Hey, where's Tifa?" he called out to Yuffie.

She jerked her head toward the kitchen door. "Back there. Hey, tell her I need her help out here."

Cloud chose not to acknowledge her comment and pushed through the swinging door. Tifa was standing at the sink, cleaning up. He came up behind her and put his hands on her waist. She started as she turned around, not surprised that he was there – it really was nearly impossible to sneak up on  _her_  – but surprised that he was touching her. His eyes glowed with excitement and he grabbed her hands, still wet from the sink.

"Tifa. Come take a ride with me."

"I…um, ok, but I should finish—"

He ignored her half-baked protests and dragged her out. Yuffie tried to stop them as they passed through the bar, but he was on a mission and he wouldn't be stopped by the little thief, no matter how persistent.

He pulled her all the way out to Fenrir. He threw a leg over the bike and looked at her expectantly. Thrilled by the boyish happiness, she slid onto the seat behind him and put her arms around his waist, locking her hands together in front of him. His breath caught, and he was suddenly very aware of her closeness. Swallowing, he turned the key and felt the engine roar to life beneath them _. She's just holding on. What did you expect?_   Slowly letting out the breath he'd been holding, he flipped on the lights and pulled out of the lot.

He drove more slowly than usual, enjoying the cool night air blowing through his hair. He refused to entertain the thought that he wanted to prolong the ride and the feel of her against his back. He brought her up to the cliff that he would forever think of as Zack's cliff, cutting the engine twenty feet from the edge. "Come on, I want to show you something."

Reluctantly, Tifa released him and slid down to the ground. Cloud climbed down next to her and tugged her hand toward the edge. She stood beside him and looked out into the darkened valley below.

He pointed toward one of the bluffs. "Right there. See it?"

She squinted, looking for something unusual among the shadowed areas within the hills and plateaus. "Cloud, what am I looking at?"

He moved to stand behind her. He put his hands on the sides of her head, turning it to look the same direction as his. Then she saw it. "Oh, Gaia! Baby chocobos! Oh Cloud, they're so cute!"

Cloud slid his hands down to rest on her shoulders. Fireflies swirled around the chocobos, providing just enough illumination to make out their fuzzy little heads. They were struggling to push themselves over the edge of the nest, a competition among the siblings to see who could get out first. One finally pushed off of his sister's head, and then flapped and wiggled enough to flip himself over the edge. He slid down to the ground and then looked around in a panic, cheeping wildly. The mother scooped him up and deposited him back in the nest, and he immediately resumed the struggle to throw himself over the edge again. Tifa laughed in delight.

Standing as he was, with his head right next to hers, the smell of her hair, the enticing curve of her neck, the sound of her laugh, and the soft strength of her shoulders under his hands, Cloud's senses were overwhelmed with her.

"Damn it, Tifa," he whispered. "You make it so hard to do the right thing."

Tifa carefully turned her head enough to see him. His face was only inches away. She could feel the slight movements of his chest against her back with each breath. Like a frightened animal, she didn't want to ruin the mood and scare him off. "What's the right thing?" she asked softly.

Startled, Cloud removed his hands and took a step back, away from her. "What?"

She turned around to look it him. "You said it was hard to do the right thing. What's the right thing?"

He really did look like a frightened animal now, eyes wide, backing steadily toward Fenrir. "I didn't say anything."

She took a step toward him and he scrambled backwards faster. "Cloud, please don't…" She watched the walls come up again, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

He turned his back to her. "We should go back. Come on." He climbed on Fenrir and started the engine. Tifa didn't budge. "Come on, Tifa. Let's go."

She folded her arms stubbornly. "No. Not until you tell me what you meant."

He swore and got off the bike. His eyes were hard as he walked toward her. "Stop acting like a child. We're going back." He reached for her elbow and she jerked away from him, expecting him to grab her tightly, but he barely brushed her arm and she pulled back with much more force than needed. A rock caught beneath her heel and she stumbled backwards.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion. Loose rocks skittered over the edge behind her. Her eyes grew wide and she threw her arms out, trying to regain her balance, but her heel slipped over the ledge and she tipped away from him.

He froze. He wasn't even aware he was moving until his hand locked around her wrist, and then he was pulling her back, away from the edge, away from the rocky drop to the canyon. He pulled her almost all the way back to Fenrir before releasing her wrist. It was hard to say who was more shaken from the close call. Her face was as white as a sheet, and he was shaky on his feet.

Cloud leaned against Fenrir, trying to hide his unsteadiness. "Can we go now?" he asked gruffly.

Tifa nodded shakily. "Yeah. Let's go."

The ride home was significantly more subdued than the drive there. She held on to his shirt at his sides, not getting any closer than necessary. He drove even more slowly, still reliving those few seconds on the cliff, except in his mind, she slipped through his fingers. He watched her fall, over and over again, helpless and useless.

When they pulled back into the parking lot, Tifa jumped off while the engine was still running and hurried inside. Cloud turned it off and sighed. That did not go the way he had planned at all.

Tifa walked quickly through the bar area, ignoring Yuffie's desperate attempts to flag her down. Yuffie couldn't get across the room fast enough, and Tifa disappeared up the stairs without sparing her a glance.

Cloud came through the door next, wearing the same grim expression. Already having made it across the room, Yuffie was close enough to grab him. "Hey! What happened? What's wrong with Tifa?"

He shook her off and strode past. "I don't want to talk about it."

"But…I could really use some help out here…"

It was too late. He was gone. Yuffie put her hands on her hips. "Those two act like moody teenagers. Am I the only  _responsible_  person in this place?" she huffed.

"Hey Yuf. Another beer?" called the customer at the nearest table.

Yuffie perked up and smiled. "Coming right up!"


	11. Confessions

Cloud laid on top of his sheets, his arm behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.  He couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened on the cliff.  Not just her close call with the edge, but everything that had happened before.  It had been a long time since he’d felt so good, and he had let his guard down.  It was getting harder and harder to remember why he had to keep it up around her.  Damn Reno and his stupid words that wouldn't leave Cloud's head.   _How do you know? Have you tried?_

Had he tried, really?  Or had he only poked his toe over the line and then pulled it back?  Every time, Tifa was warm and accepting whenever he got around to trying again, and every time, he got scared and pushed her away.  But still she stayed.  She accepted whatever distance he put between them until the next time.

On top of his whirling thoughts, the days had been hot lately, which made it that much harder to get comfortable in the muggy bedroom.  He wore only his shorts to bed.  A cool breeze trickled in through the open window and felt good on his bare skin.

_"No_!”

He sat up straight in bed.  Had he imagined it?

“Stop it!  Muh—“

_Tifa_!  Cloud sprinted down the hall, bursting into her bedroom.

Tifa was tangled up in her sheets, thrashing around.  “Monster!” she cried.

Cloud grabbed at her hands, trying to still her frantic movements.   She still got a couple knocks in before he could pin them down.  “Tifa!  Tifa, wake up!”

Tifa’s eyes flew open, but all she registered were her pinned-down wrists.  Her eyes filled with remembered terror and she thrashed harder, flailing with her feet and knees, attacking Cloud until he released her wrists and fell back. 

“Ow!  Damn it!”  She sat up straight in her bed and took in one shaky breath after another, her bedroom coming into focus and the dream fading away.  “Shit, Teef.”

She turned to see Cloud sitting on her floor with a hand over his eye.  “Cloud?  What are you doing in here?”

He grimaced.  “Being assaulted, apparently.”

Her hand flew to her mouth.  “Oh my god, did I do that?”  She jumped out of bed and knelt next to him.  “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize it was you…”

He shook his head and sighed.  “It’s ok.  I should've known better than to hold you down like that.”

She gently pulled his hand away from his face.  It was odd to feel the skin of his hands again, without the ever-present gloves he wore.  They had toughened, no longer as soft as they had become when she was taking care of him in Wutai.  “Let me see.”  She touched gingerly under his eye.  “Mm.  That’s going to be black tomorrow.”

“It’s fine,” he said, shrugging her off.  His eye would heal quickly; her wounds were deeper.  He pushed sweaty hair back from her forehead, unsticking dark brown strands from her face and neck.  “Are you ok?  You were having a nightmare.”

Tifa’s eyes were unfocused for a moment, remembering.  Then she shook it from her mind.  “Just a dream.  Come on.  I’ll get you some ice.”  She took his hand and pulled him to his feet, then led him down the stairs and into the kitchen.  “Sit,” she ordered, pointing at a chair. 

Cloud sat down at the kitchen table, and she returned a minute later with a bag of ice wrapped in cloth.  She perched on the chair next to him and held the ice to his left eye.  With his other eye, he stared at her, drinking in every detail: her big brown eyes, tinted with flecks that reflected red; her perfectly straight nose, small and soft; her full lips; her long dark hair in a loose braid; her powerful shoulders and arms; her hands, small but deadly. 

He stopped there, taking her free hand in both of his.  That kiss the night of the party had sparked something inside him.  Since then, it had been a constant struggle to keep his hands to himself.  Any time he slipped, he had to push her away again and they were back where they started, in this endless cycle of hurting her.  He wanted to fix it, but what if he made it worse?  What if he destroyed the fragile trust he was starting to see in her?  Should he even try?  Slowly, with bright blue eyes locked on molten chocolate, he brought her hand to his lips, kissing her fingertips gently.

Tifa's face crumbled and she pulled her hand away, setting the ice on the table.  "Damn it, Cloud!  Why do you do this to me?"  She got up and started pacing restlessly.  “I can’t deal with all these mixed signals.  I don’t know what you want from me and it’s—”

He put his head in his hands.  “I know!  I know.  I’m sorry.  I just…” He didn’t know what he meant to say – that he was sorry that he wasn’t strong enough to stick to his convictions around her, or that he was sorry that he needed to keep his distance in the first place.

She knelt in front of him and pulled his hands away from his head.  “Wait.  Don’t close off again, please,” she begged.  “I need you to talk to me.  I need to know.”  He raised his eyes to hers and Tifa braced herself.  “I don’t want to hear what we shouldn’t or can’t do, so don’t even say it.  I just want to know…how you feel about me.”

He stared at her, his face unreadable.  “I don’t know what you’re asking.”

“Yes, you do!”  She squeezed his hands.  She was going to have to spell it out for him, but she was scared.  If she pushed too hard and he pulled away again, if he got scared by her words or, even worse, didn’t feel the way she thought, they could never go back.  They couldn’t be just roommates after this, or platonic guardians for Denzel and Marlene.  She would have to put herself out there if she expected him to.  She would risk everything, hoping she understood his heart as well as she thought.

She took a deep breath, and one more time, she let herself fall headlong into those bright blue depths.  “In the Northern Cave…you told me you loved me.  Why did you do that?”  Her heart sped up, begging for him to answer, pushing up into her throat with each second that passed in silence. 

She clenched her teeth.  “Just be honest with me, Cloud.  Was that just something you said because you thought it was your last night on the planet?  Were you just trying to get laid one last time?”

Shocked by her crudeness, by the idea that she could even think of him that way, he finally reacted, pulling his hands away from her.  “Tifa!  No, of course not.”

“Then what was that?  What  _was_  it?”

He lowered his head.  “It was the truth.  _Is_  the truth.”

She pulled his chin up, forcing him to look at her.  “Then why do you push me away?  Why won’t you let me get close to you?  Why can someone  _else_  get close to you when I can’t?” 

She understood now – _that_   was what had changed.  She had seen him with Aria.

The intense physical attraction had always been there for her, but she held back because she knew he was damaged.  He was never going to be the grown-up version of the starry-eyed boy she’d created in her imagination after a single night of promises at the water tower.  Maybe he could have been, but they would never know.  Whoever the spiky blond kid might have become had been brutally ripped apart in a lab.

This Cloud – the Cloud she had now – was the person he became after he’d pieced himself back together.  And unlike the smoke-and-mirrors boy from her imagination, this one had flaws.  He made mistakes and argued with her and hurt people she cared about.  Unlike the idealized version she thought she had wanted, _this_ was the one she fell in love with.

So Tifa convinced herself to accept what they had.  She told herself that he just wasn’t capable of affection.   But when she saw him on TV with Aria, she realized she was wrong.  He was capable of very passionate, very real affection.  And then Tifa knew it was just  _her_  he wasn’t attracted to.

She looked down at her hands, rough and calloused.  Her skin was thickened from fighting, in practice when not in battle.  Her hair was always pulled back in the same long braid, and her clothes were chosen for practicality.  “I know I’m not all that…feminine…like Aria or Aerith, but…”

Cloud’s eyes widened.  She thought he wanted her to be like _them_?  In his mind, Tifa was perfect – rock solid, trustworthy, faithful, independent, beautiful inside and out.  Sometimes, he spoke to Aerith in his dreams.  She told him she was happy with Zack, and she wanted him to be happy too.  Aria?  She never even crossed his mind.  Damn it, how many times was that one stupid mistake going to bite him in the ass? 

But his dreams about Tifa were often…well, something not discussed in polite company.  He didn’t even dare think about them when he was down in the bar.  Life was too real there.  Only when he was in his own room, when she was safely out of his reach, did he allow himself to indulge in those fantasies.  Thinking about them now, seeing her in front of him, warm and open, made it so much harder.  He had to remind himself that there was a good reason those dreams had to be separate from reality.  So maybe it was better to let her think that he wasn’t attracted to her.  If she knew the way he felt about her, she would never willingly move on.

She saw that look creeping into his eyes.  She saw the walls coming up, and she knew she was going to lose him again.  Desperate to stop it, she grabbed his face and kissed him.  She didn’t want to give him the chance to think about it.  She didn’t want him to have time to change his mind.  She just wanted him to feel her and how badly she needed him.

Caught completely by surprise, still half in his fantasy world, he didn’t resist.  He melted into the softness of her mouth, those lips he’d dreamed about so many times and tasted so few.  That was all he got this time – a taste, and then she was pulling back.  Cloud wasn’t so quick to come back to the planet.  His eyes didn’t open.  “God.  Tifa,” he whispered.

She sat back on her heels.  “Tell me why,” she said softly.

He opened his eyes, looking dazed.  “Why what?”

She couldn’t help the flash of annoyance.  She had wanted to distract him so he would forget about his damn walls, not to forget their conversation completely.  On the other hand, she could see from his eyes that he was entirely wide open.  She wouldn’t get another chance like this.

“Why won’t you…” she brushed her fingers gently over his cheekbone and his eyelids fluttered. “…let us be anything more?”

His defenses were down.  It was impossible to rebuild his walls when he was looking at him like that, when his heart was beating so loud she could surely hear it.  He knew it was time to tell her the truth, but he lowered his eyes, unable to look at her when he said it.  “Because you deserve to be happy, Tifa, and you can’t be, with me.”

Tifa blinked.  “Wha—“

“My head is just too fucked up and something always goes wrong.”  Cloud talked over her, determined to get this out, needing her to understand that he didn’t want to hurt her.  He never wanted to, but he always did.  “I don’t want to drag you down into this hell.  I don’t want you to have to always be taking care of me, and…”  It was a bitter pill to swallow, but it had to be said.  “I…want you to be with someone normal, who can give you a normal life, and it’s…not me.”

Because he was looking down, he had no idea it was coming until he felt the powerful smack on the back of his head.  “Ow!  What—“  He looked up at Tifa and flinched a little at the anger on her face. 

“You stupid, presumptuous, arrogant, controlling  _ass_!”  Pushing away from him, she stood up and put her hands on her hips, glaring down at him.   “What makes you think you have the right to decide what’s good for me?  Don’t you think I should be allowed to make my own choices about what I want in my life?  About  _who_  I want in my life?”

“I—“ Cloud was completely caught off guard by her anger.  “I just thought—“

She started to pace the floor angrily.  “I know  _exactly_  how fucked up your head is, Cloud, and I still want to be with you.  Doesn’t that mean anything?  Doesn’t it matter that I will never love anyone else the way I love you?  Does that factor into the  _happiness_  you’ve decided I should have?” 

“Tifa, please—“

“Oh, but of course, Cloud Strife understands other people _so well_  that he can make their decisions for them!”  He flinched at her very valid point.  “Of course Tifa wants to hook up with some random _normal_ guy.  Why not that accountant who comes in every Thursday and stares at her all night?  Or maybe one of the regular drunks that she’s always kicking out?  They’re _normal_ , right?  Oh, but wait!  Cloud says they’re not good enough for her!”

“Tifa, stop,” he pleaded, but she barreled on.

“Well, hell, Cloud, maybe you need to go out and find the _perfect man_ for me, since obviously my own judgement isn’t good enough.  Do you think I’m too stupid to understand—”

Her rant was abruptly ended as she ran into his solid form.  Startled, she looked up at him, the anger draining out of her at the intensity in his glowing blue eyes that she’d never seen, or at least never recognized for what it was.  “Tifa…”

She slumped and shook her head.  “I know what I’m getting into.  I know.  Please don’t try to protect me from my own choices.”

The look on his face was pained.  “You’re right.  I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have made that decision for you.”

For once, Tifa was at a loss for words.  She’d been prepared to rant and rage and still not get through his thick skull.  She expected to argue over how stupid and stubborn he was, and end up with slamming doors and punching pillows.  Maybe she’d actually rattled his brain with that smack.

“You know that…I’m not good with words,” he said hesitantly.  “And I know that my actions in the past have been confusing, but…I know what I want.  If it’s what you want too, then…”  He lowered his face to hers, waiting for her to stop him, looking for some sign that he was doing the wrong thing, but for once, it seemed that he read her correctly.  Her eyes drifted closed with the first tentative brush of his mouth.  Her lips parted, pulling gently at his. 

He explored her mouth tenderly, cautiously.  His tongue sought hers out, a complex dance of softly stroking, of give and take.  Slender fingers, strong and work toughened but still somehow delicate, wound into golden hair.  Hands used to wrapping around a sword slid around a slender waist and pulled her closer.

What started as tentative and sweet soon disintegrated into frantic and needy.  She tightened her hand into a fist, pulling his head back with his hair.  Her mouth latched on to his neck, sending desperate shivers through him.  A quiet moan slipped past his lips, and the fingers clinging to his bicep slid down to his hand.  She grabbed onto it and moved it to the buttons on her shirt, impatient to feel his hands on her. 

As he worked at the buttons, she spread her free hand across his chest, fingers tracing lightly over scars she had memorized in Wutai.  At first they had bothered her, imagining what could have caused each one, but now they were the very thing that she most associated with his body.  Every mark was mapped out in her mind, making her fantasies more real and vivid, but nothing compared to the way it felt now, with the taste of his skin on her tongue and the sound of his uneven breathing in her ear. 

Finally managing to free her from the shirt, he dropped it on the floor, not caring where it went.  He backed her up against the wall and brought her mouth back to his, gently tracing her soft skin with his fingers.  The toned belly that teased him a thousand times under cropped shirts needed to be thoroughly explored and worshipped, and he fully planned on spending hours mapping out every inch of her skin with his mouth, but there would be time later for leisurely exploration.  Tonight they were hot and desperate.

Skin pressed against skin everywhere it was exposed.  His hands stroked up over her breasts.  Her kissing was getting frantic and he pulled away, leaning his head against the wall over her shoulder.  “Tifa,” he moaned in her ear.  “Do you have any idea…”

That voice, so familiar yet so different with the edge of need, almost made her unravel at the seams.  She thrust her hips forward, and whatever he was going to say was abruptly cut off with the catch in his breath.

“Closer,” she said hoarsely.  Cloud hesitated, lifting his head to look at her with raised brows.  “I need to be closer,” she said, almost begging.  “Please, Cloud.”

They couldn’t really get any closer, unless…with his eyes locked on hers, watching for any signs of distress or misunderstanding, his hand slid down and tugged at the string of her pajama bottoms.  She flexed her hips eagerly, but he paused.  “Tifa, I don’t want…I mean, if you’re not ready…”

Tifa arched her back.  Her nails sunk into the skin of his shoulder.  “Cloud, I’ve been ready for _years_.” 

He swallowed hard.  He wanted her so badly, but after what she’d gone through, he was afraid to push her.  “But—“

“If you stop right now, I will murder you in your sleep,” she hissed, her tongue flicking out to tease the shell of his ear.

A jolt shot through his body.  Damn, it was hot when she threatened him.  That was about all the self control he could handle.  He put his hands on her hips, sliding down her pajama pants and underwear together.  His head dipped down at the same time, and the heat of his tongue on a sensitive nipple made her suck in a breath and grip golden spikes.  

Tifa wasn’t exactly celibate during the years Cloud was gone, either – although she hadn’t wanted anyone else once she found him again – but it had never felt like this.  He hadn’t even really touched her yet, and she wanted to feel him inside of her so badly that she was ready to combust.  When she felt a finger slide in, and then two, her hand tightened in his hair.  He was only gently stroking, but she was so ready, she knew it wouldn’t take much.  “Cloud, I…Cloud!”  He twisted his wrist sharply and she bit back a scream as everything inside of her tightened and exploded.

_Oh.  OH.  Now I get it._ She rode the wave until it subsided and he brought her gently back down, holding her steady and kissing her neck and shoulder.  She’d only ever experienced an orgasm at her own hands, but never an Orgasm with a big O.  Now she understood why it was such a big deal. 

She looked down at herself.  Everything was soaked – his hand, her legs, her pants on the floor.  “Oh, Cloud.  I’m so sorry,” she said, biting her lip.

He had a satisfied little smirk on his face, and his head tilted in question.  “Why are you sorry?”

“I just—I wanted it to last.”

He laughed softly and leaned closer, putting his lips to her ear.  The contact of his skin was almost too much for her.  “Did you think you only get one?”  The huskiness in his voice sent a liquid heat straight to her groin, making her suddenly aware that yes, she could definitely do it more than once.  Her fumbling teenage experiences were starting to look pretty pitiful in retrospect.  “And I can make it last, Tifa” he whispered.  “All night, if you want.”

She had barely managed to slow her breathing and it was already speeding up again.  Damn, his voice did things to her when he talked like that.  “Is that even possible?” 

A cocky little smirk twisted his lips.  “It is for me.”  Shinra had given him the stamina of a racehorse, and for the first time he wasn’t even bitter about it.

* * *

Cloud really hadn’t planned on going all night.  After all, they were adults with responsibilities and small kids to look after.  But he couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t real.  It would all vanish when the sun rose, and he was going to hold onto it as long as he could.  Besides that, Tifa was eager and insatiable, and there was no way he was going to say no to her.  Maybe it was impulsive and short-sighted, but he’d dreamed so many times of seeing her just like this, exhausted and pliant in his bed.

As the earliest rays of the rising sun sprinkled through the window, she had curled up, using him like a body pillow.  One powerful leg was laid across both of his, tucked under his knee like she was afraid he would sneak away.  Her arm laid across his chest, curled against his neck, and her head lay next to his on the pillow, his hair fluttering from her soft puffs of breath.

He carefully reached down with the arm that wasn’t pinned underneath her and pulled the blanket up over both of them.  He let her sleep, but he didn’t want to close his eyes himself.  If he slept, he would have to wake up, and if he woke up, he would surely realize how selfish he had been and change his mind.  And of course that was only if she didn’t wake up first and realize that she’d made a mistake. 

He turned his head on the pillow  so he could watch her sleep.  He brushed her hair out of her face and traced the contours of her cheeks, nose and lips with his fingertips.  “Tifa,” he whispered, knowing she was sound asleep.  “I’ve always loved you.”  Then, with a warmth and contentment so unfamiliar to him, he pressed his lips against her forehead and fell asleep.

* * *

“Cloud!  Cloud!  Tifa’s not in her—“   Marlene burst through Cloud’s door, shouting. “Oh.  Tifa?  What are you doing in Cloud’s room?”

Cloud looked back and forth between Marlene and Tifa, scrabbling for an excuse.  See, this was one of those things that adults were supposed to think about before they passed out naked.

“I…had a bad dream, Marlene,” Tifa said calmly.  She started to sit up, but Cloud pulled her back down before the blankets could fall off and expose her. 

“OH.”  The little girl nodded in understanding.  “When you have bad dreams, you crawl in Cloud’s bed, just like I climb in yours?”

Tifa smiled.  “Yes, exactly.”

More pounding footsteps sounded in the hall.  “Marlene!  Did Cloud know—“  Denzel skidded to a stop next to Marlene in the doorway.  “Oh.  She’s here.”

“Tifa had a bad dream,” Marlene told him sagely. 

“Oh.  And why does Cloud have a black eye?”

Cloud grinned.  It was a sight so rare that both the kids lit up.  “Well, Tifa’s kind of wild in bed.”

Tifa kicked him under the covers, but she couldn’t suppress her smile.

“I mean, she rolls around a lot in her sleep,” he clarified.

“Oh…” Denzel trailed off.  She must have slept better after she came in here.  It had been a long time since he’d seen them both in such a good mood.  “Hey Marlene, I bet we can make our own breakfast.  Wanna try?”

Marlene’s eyes brightened.  “Yeah!  Let’s go!”

As soon as the kids had closed the door and little footsteps bounded down the stairs, Cloud flopped back down, chuckling.  “A bad dream…”

Tifa curled up to his side and rested her head on his chest, tracing lazy circles on his stomach.  “Well I didn’t want to  _lie_ …”

“Of course not.  You never lie.  But then again, I guess I really don’t know  _everything_  about you.”  He ran his fingers idly through her hair.  “Before last night, I never knew you had such a sailor’s mouth.”

Tifa buried her burning face in the pillow.  “Neither did I.”

His face grew serious.  “Tifa.  Do you regret it?”

Her jaw clenched as every trace of humor faded.  “Don’t you _dare_ , Cloud.  Not now.  If you—“

But he took her face in his hands and kissed her, taking her breath away before she could get herself worked up.  His hand slid around to the back of her head, lowering it down to the pillow before his last few gentle kisses eased her back to the planet.  “I don’t,” he breathed.  “I won’t.”

Her eyes opened slowly.  She raised her hand to touch his cheek, her smile radiant.  Gods, she was beautiful.  Cloud turned his head and caught one of her fingers gently between his teeth.  “So…how long do you think we have?”

Tifa’s body immediately responded to the light flaring in his eyes, and it was an effort to think straight.  “…I’d say about 20 minutes.” 

He put his mouth next to her ear.  “Tifa,” he whispered.  She felt a tingle all the way down to her toes.  “I can be quick, too.”


End file.
